7  & 

f        m       _ 


D 


LIEUT.  PAT   O  BRIEN,  R.  F.  C. 


OUTWITTING 
THE   HUN 

My  Escape  from  a 
German  Prison  Camp 

BY 
LIEUT.  PAT   O'BRIEN 

Royal  Flying  Corps 


ILLUSTRATED 


HARPER  y  BROTHERS  PUBLISHERS 

NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 


OUTWITTING  THE  HUN 

Copyright.  1918.  by  Lieutenant  Pat  O'Brien 

Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 

Published  March.  1918 


TO 

THE   NORTH   STAR 

WHOSE    GUIDING    LIGHT    MARKED    THE 

PATHWAY   TO    FREEDOM    FOR    A   WEARY 

FUGITIVE,  THIS  BOOK  IS  INSCRIBED 

IN    HUMBLE     GRATITUDE 

AND    ABIDING    FAITH 


CONTENTS 

CHAP.  PAGE 

PREFACE       xi 

I.  THE  FOLLY  OF  DESPAIR i 

II.  I  BECOME  A  FIGHTING-SCOUT 7 

III.  CAPTURED  BY  THE  HUNS 21 

IV.  CLIPPED  WINGS 34 

V.  THE  PRISON-CAMP  AT  COURTRAI     ....  53 

VI.  A  LEAP  FOR  LIBERTY 77 

VII.  CRAWLING  THROUGH  GERMANY 88 

VIII.  NINE  DAYS  IN  LUXEMBOURG 97 

IX.  I  ENTER  BELGIUM 112 

X.  EXPERIENCES  IN  BELGIUM 132 

XI.  I  ENCOUNTER  GERMAN  SOLDIERS    ....  145 

XII.  THE  FORGED  PASSPORT 159 

XIII.  FIVE  DAYS  IN  AN  EMPTY  HOUSE    .    .    .    .  186 

XIV.  A  NIGHT  OF  DISSIPATION 207 

XV.  OBSERVATIONS  IN  A  BELGIAN  CITY     .    .    .  219 

XVI.  I  APPROACH  THE  FRONTIER 225 

XVII.  GETTING  THROUGH  THE  LINES 236 

XVIII.  EXPERIENCES  IN  HOLLAND 250 

XIX.  I  AM  PRESENTED  TO  THE  KING      ....  273 

XX.  HOME  AGAIN!  .  281 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

LlEUT.  PAT  O'BRIEN,  R.  F.  C Frontispiece 

THE  AEROPLANE  WHICH  LIEUTENANT  O'BRIEN 
USED  IN  His  LAST  BATTLE  WITH  THE  HUNS 
WHEN  HE  WAS  BROUGHT  DOWN  AND 
MADE  PRISONER Facing  p.  30 

THE  IDENTIFICATION  DISK  WORN  BY  LIEU- 
TENANT O'BRIEN  WHEN  HE  WAS  CAPT- 
URED BY  THE  HUNS.  IT  REVEALED  TO 
THEM  THAT  HE  WAS  AN  AMERICAN  ...  "  36 

LIEUT.  PAUL  H.  RANEY  OF  TORONTO  AND  LIEUT. 

PAT  O'BRIEN "  50 

MAILING-CARD  SENT  BY  GERMAN  GOVERNMENT 
TO  PAT  O'BRIEN'S  SISTER,  MRS.  CLARA 
CLEGG  OF  MOMENCE,  ILLINOIS  ....  "  60 

OBVERSE  SIDE  OF  CARD  SHOWN  ABOVE     .    .      "        60 

A  GROUP  OF  PRISONERS  OF  WAR  IN  THE  PRISON- 
CAMP  AT  COURTRAI,  BELGIUM  ....  "  70 

THE  FORGED  PASSPORT  PREPARED  IN  A  BEL- 
GIAN CITY  TO  AID  LIEUTENANT  O'BRIEN'S 
ESCAPE  INTO  HOLLAND,  BUT  WHICH  WAS 
NEVER  USED "  164 

COPY  OF  TELEGRAM  INVITING  LIEUTENANT 

O'BRIEN  TO  MEET  KING  GEORGE  ...  "  270 

COPY  OF  TELEGRAM  SENT  BY  LIEUTENANT 
O'BRIEN  IN  ANSWER  TO  AN  INVITATION 
TO  MEET  KING  GEORGE "  270 


PREFACE 

'""THERE  is  a  common  idea  that  the  age 
1  of  miracles  is  past.  Perhaps  it  is,  but 
if  so,  the  change  must  have  come  about 
within  the  past  few  weeks — after  I  es- 
caped into  Holland.  For  if  anything  is 
certain  in  this  life  it  is  this:  this  book 
never  would  have  been  written  but  for  the 
succession  of  miracles  set  forth  in  these 
pages. 

Miracles,  luck,  coincidence,  Providence 
— it  doesn't  matter  much  what  you  call  it 
— certainly  played  an  important  part  in 
the  series  of  hairbreadth  escapes  in  which 
I  figured  during  my  short  but  eventful 
appearance  in  the  great  drama  now  being 
enacted  across  the  seas.  Without  it,  all 
my  efforts  and  sufferings  would  have  been 
quite  unavailing. 

No  one  realizes  this  better  than  I  do  and 
I  want  to  repeat  it  right  here  because  else- 
where in  these  pages  I  may  appear  oc- 


PREFACE 

casionally  to  overlook  or  minimize  it: 
without  the  help  of  Providence  I  would 
not  be  here  to-day. 

But  this  same  Providence  which  brought 
me  home  safely,  despite  all  the  dangers 
which  beset  me,  may  work  similar  miracles 
for  others,  and  it  is  in  the  hope  of  en- 
couraging other  poor  devils  who  may 
find  themselves  in  situations  as  hopeless 
apparently  as  mine  oftentimes  were  that 
this  book  is  written. 

When  this  cruel  war  is  over — which  I 
trust  may  be  sooner  than  I  expect  it  to  be 
— I  hope  I  shall  have  an  opportunity  to 
revisit  the  scenes  of  my  adventures  and 
to  thank  in  person  in  an  adequate  manner 
every  one  who  extended  a  helping  hand  to 
me  when  I  was  a  wretched  fugitive.  All 
of  them  took  great  risks  in  befriending  an 
escaped  prisoner,  and  they  did  it  without 
the  slightest  hope  of  reward.  At  the  same 
time  I  hope  I  shall  have  a  chance  to  pay 
my  compliments  to  those  who  endeavored 
to  take  advantage  of  my  distress. 

In  the  meanwhile,  however,  I  can  only 
express  my  thanks  in  this  ineffective  man- 
ner, trusting  that  in  some  mysterious  way 
a  copy  of  this  book  may  fall  into  the  hands 


PREFACE 

of  every  one  who  befriended  me.  I  hope 
particularly  that  every  good  Hollander 
who  played  the  part  of  the  Good  Samaritan 
to  me  so  bountifully  after  my  escape  from 
Belgium  will  see  these  pages  and  feel  that 
I  am  absolutely  sincere  when  I  say  that 
words  cannot  begin  to  express  my  sense  of 
gratitude  to  the  Dutch  people. 

It  is  needless  for  me  to  add  how  deeply 
I  feel  for  my  fellow-prisoners  in  Germany 
who  were  less  fortunate  than  I.  Poor, 
poor  fellows! — they  are  the  real  victims  of 
the  war.  I  hope  that  every  one  of  them 
may  soon  be  restored  to  that  freedom 
whose  value  I  never  fully  realized  until 
after  I  had  had  to  fight  so  hard  to  regain  it. 

PAT  O'BRIEN. 

MOMENCE,  ILLINOIS,  January  14,  igi8. 


OUTWITTING    THE    HUN 


OUTWITTING 
THE    HUN 


THE  FOLLY  OF  DESPAIR 

C1SS  than  nine  months  ago  eighteen 
officers  of  the  Royal  Flying  Corps, 
which  had  been  training  in  Canada,  left 
for  England  on  the  Megantic. 

If  any  of  them  was  over  twenty-five 
years  of  age,  he  had  successfully  concealed 
the  fact,  because  they  don't  accept  older 
men  for  the  R.  F.  C. 

Nine  of  the  eighteen  were  British  sub- 
jects; the  other  nine  were  Americans, 
who,  tired  of  waiting  for  their  own  country 
to  take  her  place  with  the  Allies,  had 
joined  the  British  colors  in  Canada.  I  was 
one  of  the  latter. 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

We  were  going  to  England  to  earn  our 
41  wings" — a  qualification  which  must  be 
won  before  a  member  of  the  R.  F.  C.  is 
allowed  to  hunt  the  Huns  on  the  western 
front. 

That  was  in  May,  1917. 

By  August  ist  most  of  us  were  full- 
fledged  pilots,  actively  engaged  at  various 
parts  of  the  line  in  daily  conflict  with  the 
enemy. 

By  December  I5th  every  man  Jack  of 
us  who  had  met  the  enemy  in  France,  with 
one  exception,  had  appeared  on  the  casu- 
alty list.  The  exception  was  H.  K.  Boy- 
sen,  an  American,  who  at  last  report  was 
fighting  on  the  Italian  front,  still  un- 
scathed. Whether  his  good  fortune  has 
stood  by  him  up  to  this  time  I  don't  know, 
but  if  it  has  I  would  be  very  much  sur- 
prised. 

Of  the  others  five  were  killed  in  action — 
three  Americans,  one  Canadian,  and  one 
Englishman.  Three  more  were  in  all 
probability  killed  in  action,  although  of- 
ficially they  are  listed  merely  as  "missing." 
One  of  these  was  an  American,  one  a 
Canadian,  and  the  third  a  Scotchman. 
Three  more,  two  of  them  Americans,  were 


THE    FOLLY   OF    DESPAIR 

seriously  wounded.  Another,  a  Canadian, 
is  a  prisoner  in  Germany.  I  know  nothing 
of  the  others. 

What  happened  to  me  is  narrated  in 
these  pages.  I  wish,  instead,  I  could  tell 
the  story  of  each  of  my  brave  comrades, 
for  not  one  of  them  was  downed,  I  am 
sure,  without  upholding  the  best  tradi- 
tions of  the  R.  F.  C.  Unfortunately,  how- 
ever, of  the  eighteen  who  sailed  on  the 
Meganticlast  May,  I  happened  to  be  the 
first  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Huns,  and 
what  befell  my  comrades  after  that,  with 
one  exception,  I  know  only  second  hand. 

The  exception  was  the  case  of  poor, 
brave  Paul  Raney — my  closest  chum — 
whose  last  battle  I  witnessed  from  my 
German  prison — but  that  is  a  story  I  shall 
tell  in  its  proper  place. 

In  one  way,  however,  I  think  the  story 
of  my  own  "big  adventure"  and  my 
miraculous  escape  may,  perhaps,  serve 
a  purpose  as  useful  as  that  of  the  heroic 
fate  of  my  less  fortunate  comrades.  Their 
story,  it  is  true,  might  inspire  others  to 
deeds  of  heroism,  but  mine,  I  hope,  will 
convey  the  equally  valuable  lesson  of  the 
folly  of  despair. 

3 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

Many  were  the  times  in  the  course  of 
my  struggles  when  it  seemed  absolutely 
useless  to  continue.  In  a  hostile  country, 
where  discovery  meant  death,  wounded, 
sick,  famished,  friendless,  hundreds  of 
miles  from  the  nearest  neutral  territory  the 
frontier  of  which  was  so  closely  guarded 
that  even  if  I  got  there  it  seemed  too  much 
to  hope  that  I  could  ever  get  through,  what 
was  the  use  of  enduring  further  agony? 

And  yet  here  I  am,  in  the  Land  of 
Liberty — although  in  a  somewhat  obscure 
corner,  the  little  town  of  Momence,  Illi- 
nois, where  I  was  born — not  very  much 
the  worse  for  wear  after  all  I've  been 
through,  and,  as  I  write  these  words,  not 
eight  months  have  passed  since  my  seven- 
teen comrades  and  I  sailed  from  Canada 
on  the  Meganticl 

Can  it  be  possible  that  I  was  spared  to 
convey  a  message  of  hope  to  others  who 
are  destined  for  similar  trials?  I  am 
afraid  there  will  be  many  of  them. 

Years  ago  I  heard  of  the  epitaph  which 
is  said  to  have  been  found  on  a  child's 
grave: 

If  I  was  so  soon  to  be  done  for, 

O  Lord,  what  was  I  ever  begun  for? 

4 


THE    FOLLY   OF    DESPAIR 

The  way  it  has  come  to  me  since  I  re- 
turned from  Europe  is: 

If,  O  Lord,  I  was  not  to  be  done  for, 
What  were  my  sufferings  e'er  begun  for? 

Perhaps  the  answer  lies  in  the  sugges- 
tion I  have  made. 

At  any  rate,  if  this  record  of  my  ad- 
ventures should  prove  instrumental  in 
sustaining  others  who  need  encourage- 
ment, I  shall  not  feel  that  my  sufferings 
were  in  vain. 

It  is  hardly  likely  that  any  one  will 
quite  duplicate  my  experiences,  but  I 
haven't  the  slightest  doubt  that  many  will 
have  to  go  through  trials  equally  nerve- 
racking  and  suffer  disappointments  just  as 
disheartening. 

It  would  be  very  far  from  the  mark  to 
imagine  that  the  optimism  which  I  am 
preaching  now  so  glibly  sustained  me 
through  all  my  troubles.  On  the  con- 
trary, I  am  free  to  confess  that  I  frequently 
gave  way  to  despair  and  often,  for  hours 
at  a  time,  felt  so  dejected  and  discouraged 
that  I  really  didn't  care  what  happened  to 
me.  Indeed,  I  rather  hoped  that  some- 

5 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

thing  would  happen  to  put  an  end  to  my 
misery. 

But,  despite  all  my  despondency  and 
hopelessness,  the  worst  never  happened, 
and  I  can't  help  thinking  that  my  salva- 
tion must  have  been  designed  to  show  the 
way  to  others. 


II 

I   BECOME  A  FIGHTING-SCOUT 

I  STARTED  flying,  in  Chicago,  in  1912. 
I  was  then  eighteen  years  old,  but  I 
had  had  a  hankering  for  the  air  ever 
since  I  can  remember. 

As  a  youngster  I  followed  the  exploits  of 
the  Wrights  with  the  greatest  interest, 
although  I  must  confess  I  sometimes  hoped 
that  they  wouldn't  really  conquer  the  air 
until  I  had  had  a  whack  at  it  myself.  I 
got  more  whacks  than  I  was  looking  for 
later  on. 

Needless  to  say,  my  parents  were  very 
much  opposed  to  my  risking  my  life  at 
what  was  undoubtedly  at  that  time  one 
of  the  most  hazardous  "pastimes"  a 
young  fellow  could  select,  and  every  time 
I  had  a  smash-up  or  some  other  mishap 
I  was  ordered  never  to  go  near  an  avia- 
tion field  again. 

7 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

So  I  went  out  to  California.  There  an- 
other fellow  and  I  built  our  own  machine, 
which  we  flew  in  various  parts  of  the  state. 

In  the  early  part  of  1916,  when  trouble 
was  brewing  in  Mexico,  I  joined  the 
American  Flying  Corps.  I  was  sent  to 
San  Diego,  where  the  army  flying  school 
is  located,  and  spent  about  eight  months 
there,  but  as  I  was  anxious  to  get  into 
active  service  and  there  didn't  seem  much 
chance  of  America  ever  getting  into  the 
war,  I  resigned  and,  crossing  over  to 
Canada,  joined  the  Royal  Flying  Corps 
at  Victoria,  B.  C. 

I  was  sent  to  Camp  Borden,  Toronto, 
first  to  receive  instruction  and  later  to 
instruct.  While  a  cadet  I  made  the  first 
loop  ever  made  by  a  cadet  in  Canada,  and 
after  I  had  performed  the  stunt  I  half  ex- 
pected to  be  kicked  out  of  the  service  for 
it.  Apparently,  however,  they  considered 
the  source  and  let  it  go  at  that.  Later  on 
I  had  the  satisfaction  of  introducing  the 
loop  as  part  of  the  regular  course  of  in- 
struction for  cadets  in  the  R.  F.  C.,  and 
I  want  to  say  right  here  that  Camp  Bor- 
den has  turned  out  some  of  the  best  fliers 
that  have  ever  gone  to  France. 

8 


I   BECOME  A  FIGHTING-SCOUT 

In  May,  1917,  I  and  seventeen  other 
Canadian  fliers  left  for  England  on  the 
Megantic,  where  we  were  to  qualify  for 
service  in  France. 

Our  squadron  consisted  of  nine  Amer- 
icans, C.  C.  Robinson,  H.  A.  Miller,  F.  S. 
McClurg,  A.  A.  Allen,  E.  B.  Garnett, 
H.  K.  Boysen,  H.  A.  Smeeton,  A.  Taylor, 
and  myself;  and  nine  Britishers,  Paul  H. 
Raney,  J.  R.  Park,  C.  Nelmes,  C.  R. 
Moore,  T.  L.  Atkinson,  F.  C.  Conry, 
A.  Muir,  E.  A.  L.  F.  Smith,  and  A.  C. 
Jones. 

Within  a  few  weeks  after  our  arrival  in 
England  all  of  us  had  won  our  ' 'wings " 
the  insignia  worn  on  the  left  breast  by 
every  pilot  on  the  western  front. 

We  were  all  sent  to  a  place  in  France 
known  as  the  Pool  Pilots'  Mess.  Here 
men  gather  from  all  the  training  squadrons 
in  Canada  and  England  and  await  assign- 
ments to  the  particular  squadron  of  which 
they  are  to  become  members. 

The  Pool  Pilots'  Mess  is  situated  a  few 
miles  back  of  the  lines.  Whenever  a  pilot 
is  shot  down  or  killed  the  Pool  Pilots'  Mess 
is  notified  to  send  another  to  take  his  place. 

There  are  so  many  casualties  every  day 
9 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

in  the  R.  F.  C.  at  one  point  of  the  front 
or  another  that  the  demand  for  new  pilots 
is  quite  active,  but  when  a  fellow  is  itching 
to  get  into  the  fight  as  badly  as  I  and  my 
friends  were  I  must  confess  that  we  got  a 
little  impatient,  although  we  realized  that 
every  time  a  new  man  was  called  it  meant 
that  some  one  else  had,  in  all  probability, 
been  killed,  wounded,  or  captured. 

One  morning  an  order  came  in  for  a 
scout  pilot,  and  one  of  my  friends  was  as- 
signed. I  can  tell  you  the  rest  of  us  were 
as  envious  of  him  as  if  it  were  the  last 
chance  any  of  us  were  ever  going  to  have 
to  get  to  the  front.  As  it  was,  however, 
hardly  more  than  three  hours  had  elapsed 
before  another  wire  was  received  at  the 
Mess  and  I  was  ordered  to  follow  my 
friend.  I  afterward  learned  that  as  soon 
as  he  arrived  at  the  squadron  he  had  pre- 
vailed upon  the  commanding  officer  of  the 
squadron  to  wire  for  me. 

At  the  Pool  Pilots'  Mess  it  was  the  cus- 
tom of  the  officers  to  wear  "shorts" — 
breeches  that  are  about  eight  inches  long, 
like  the  Boy  Scouts  wear,  leaving  a  space 
of  about  eight  inches  of  open  country  be- 
tween the  top  of  the  puttees  and  the  end  of 

IO 


I   BECOME  A  FIGHTING-SCOUT 

the  "shorts."  The  Australians  wore  them 
in  Salonica  and  at  the  Dardanelles. 

When  the  order  came  in  for  me,  I  had 
these  "shorts"  on,  and  I  didn't  have  time 
to  change  into  other  clothes.  Indeed,  I 
was  in  such  a  sweat  to  get  to  the  front  that 
if  I  had  been  in  my  pajamas  I  think  I 
would  have  gone  that  way.  As  it  was,  it 
was  raining  and  I  threw  an  overcoat  over 
me,  jumped  into  the  machine,  and  we 
made  record  time  to  the  aerodrome  to 
which  I  had  been  ordered  to  report. 

As  I  alighted  from  the  automobile  my 
overcoat  blew  open  and  displayed  my 
manly  form  attired  in  "shorts"  instead  of 
in  the  regulation  flying  breeches,  and  the 
sight  aroused  considerable  commotion  in 
camp. 

"Must  be  a  Yankee!"  I  overheard  one 
officer  say  to  another  as  I  approached. 
"No  one  but  a  Yank  would  have  the 
cheek  to  show  up  that  way,  you  know!" 

But  they  laughed  good-naturedly  as  I 
came  up  to  them  and  welcomed  me  to  the 
squadron,  and  I  was  soon  very  much  at 
home. 

My  squadron  was  one  of  four  stationed 

at  an  aerodrome  about  eighteen  miles  back 
ii 


OUTWITTING  THE   HUN 

of  the  Ypres  line.  There  were  eighteen 
pilots  in  our  squadron,  which  was  a  scout- 
squadron,  scout-machines  carrying  but  one 
man. 

A  scout,  sometimes  called  a  fighting- 
scout,  has  no  bomb-dropping  or  recon- 
noitering  to  do.  His  duty  is  just  to  fight, 
or,  as  the  order  was  given  to  me,  "You 
are  expected  to  pick  fights  and  not  wait 
until  they  come  to  you!" 

When  bomb-droppers  go  out  over  the 
lines  in  the  daytime,  a  scout-squadron 
usually  convoys  them.  The  bomb-drop- 
pers fly  at  about  twelve  thousand  feet,  the 
scouts  a  thousand  feet  or  so  above  them  to 
protect  them. 

If  at  any  time  they  should  be  attacked, 
it  is  the  duty  of  the  scouts  to  dive  down 
and  carry  on  the  fight,  the  orders  of  the 
bomb-droppers  being  to  go  on  dropping 
bombs  and  not  to  fight  unless  they  have 
to.  There  is  seldom  a  time  that  machines 
go  out  over  the  lines  on  this  work  in  the 
daytime  that  they  are  not  attacked  at 
some  time  or  other,  and  so  the  scouts 
usually  have  plenty  of  work  to  do.  In 
addition  to  these  attacks,  however,  the 
squadron  is  invariably  under  constant 

12 


I   BECOME  A  FIGHTING-SCOUT 

bombardment  from  the  ground,  but  that 
doesn't  worry  us  very  much,  as  we  know 
pretty  well  how  to  avoid  being  hit  from 
that  quarter. 

On  my  first  flight,  after  joining  the 
squadron,  I  was  taken  out  over  the  lines 
to  get  a  look  at  things,  map  out  my  loca- 
tion in  case  I  was  ever  lost,  locate  the 
forests,  lakes,  and  other  landmarks,  and 
get  the  general  lay  of  the  land. 

One  thing  that  was  impressed  upon  me 
very  emphatically  was  the  location  of  the 
hospitals,  so  that  in  case  I  was  ever 
wounded  and  had  the  strength  to  pick 
my  landing  I  could  land  as  near  as  pos- 
sible to  a  hospital.  All  these  things  a 
new  pilot  goes  through  during  the  first 
two  or  three  days  after  joining  a  squadron. 

Our  regular  routine  was  two  flights  a 
day,  each  of  two  hours'  duration.  After 
doing  our  regular  patrol,  it  was  our  priv- 
ilege to  go  off  on  our  own  hook,  if  we 
wished,  before  going  back  to  the  squadron. 

I  soon  found  out  that  my  squadron  was 
some  hot  squadron,  our  fliers  being  almost 
always  assigned  to  special-duty  work,  such 
as  shooting  up  trenches  at  a  height  of 
fifty  feet  from  the  ground! 
13 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

I  received  my  baptism  into  this  kind  of 
work  the  third  time  I  went  out  over  the 
lines,  and  I  would  recommend  it  to  any 
one  who  is  hankering  for  excitement.  You 
are  not  only  apt  to  be  attacked  by  hostile 
aircraft  from  above,  but  you  are  swept  by 
machine-gun  fire  from  below.  I  have  seen 
some  of  our  machines  come  back  from  this 
work  sometimes  so  riddled  with  bullets 
that  I  wondered  how  they  ever  held  to- 
gether. Before  we  started  out  on  one  of 
these  jobs  we  were  mighty  careful  to  see 
that  our  motors  were  in  perfect  condition, 
because  they  told  us  the  "war-bread  was 
bad  in  Germany." 

One  morning,  shortly  after  I  joined  the 
squadron,  three  of  us  started  over  the  line 
on  our  own  accord.  We  soon  observed 
four  enemy  machines,  two-seaters,  com- 
ing toward  us.  This  type  of  machine  is 
used  by  the  Huns  for  artillery  work  and 
bomb-dropping,  and  we  knew  they  were 
on  mischief  bent.  Each  machine  had  a 
machine-gun  in  front,  worked  by  the  pilot, 
and  the  observer  also  had  a  gun  with  which 
he  could  spray  all  around. 

When  we  first  noticed  the  Huns  our 
machines  were  about  six  miles  back  of  the 
14 


I   BECOME  A  FIGHTING-SCOUT 

German  lines  and  we  were  lying  high  up 
in  the  sky,  keeping  the  sun  behind  us, 
so  that  the  enemy  could  not  see  us. 

We  picked  out  three  of  the  machines 
and  dove  down  on  them.  I  went  right 
by  the  man  I  picked  for  myself  and  his  ob- 
server in  the  rear  seat  kept  pumping  at 
me  to  beat  the  band.  Not  one  of  my 
shots  took  effect  as  I  went  right  under 
him,  but  I  turned  and  gave  him  another 
burst  of  bullets  and  down  he  went  in  a 
spinning  nose  dive,  one  of  his  wings  going 
one  way  and  one  another.  As  I  saw  hinx 
crash  to  the  ground  I  knew  that  I  had  got 
my  first  hostile  aircraft.  One  of  my  com- 
rades was  equally  successful,  but  the  other 
two  German  machines  got  away.  We 
chased  them  back  until  things  got  too  hot 
for  us  by  reason  of  the  appearance  of  other 
German  machines,  and  then  we  called  it  a 
day. 

This  experience  whetted  my  appetite  for 
more  of  the  same  kind,  and  I  did  not  have 
long  to  wait. 

It  may  be  well  to  explain  here  just  what 

a  spinning  nose  dive  is.    A  few  years  ago 

the  spinning  nose  dive  was  considered  one 

of  the  most  dangerous  things  a  pilot  could. 

a  15 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

attempt,  and  many  men  were  killed  getting 
into  this  spin  and  not  knowing  how  to 
come  out  of  it.  In  fact,  lots  of  pilots 
thought  that  when  once  you  got  into  a 
spinning  nose  dive  there  was  no  way  of 
coming  out  of  it.  It  is  now  used,  however, 
in  actual  flying. 

The  machines  that  are  used  in  France 
are  controlled  in  two  ways,  both  by  hands 
and  by  feet,  the  feet  working  the  yoke  or 
rudder  bar  which  controls  the  rudder  that 
steers  the  machine.  The  lateral  controls 
and  fore  and  aft,  which  cause  the  machine 
to  rise  or  lower,  are  controlled  by  a  con- 
trivance called  a  "joy-stick."  If,  when 
flying  in  the  air,  a  pilot  should  release  his 
hold  on  this  stick,  it  will  gradually  come 
back  toward  the  pilot. 

In  that  position  the  machine  will  begin 
to  climb.  So  if  a  pilot  is  shot  and  loses 
control  of  this  "joy-stick"  his  machine 
begins  to  ascend,  and  climbs  until  the 
angle  formed  becomes  too  great  for  it  to 
continue  or  the  motor  to  pull  the  plane; 
for  a  fraction  of  a  second  it  stops,  and  the 
motor  then  being  the  heaviest,  it  causes  the 
nose  of  the  machine  to  fall  forward,  pitch- 
ing down  at  a  terrific  rate  of  speed  and 

16 


I  BECOME  A  FIGHTING-SCOUT 

spinning  at  the  same  time.  If  the  motor  is 
still  running,  it  naturally  increases  the 
speed  much  more  than  it  would  if  the 
motor  were  shut  off,  and  there  is  great 
danger  that  the  wings  will  double  up, 
causing  the  machine  to  break  apart.  Al- 
though spins  are  made  with  the  motor  on, 
you  are  dropping  like  a  ball  being  dropped 
out  of  the  sky  and  the  velocity  increases 
with  the  power  of  the  motor. 

This  spinning  nose  dive  has  been  fre- 
quently used  in  "stunt"  flying  in  recent 
years,  but  is  now  put  to  practical  use  by 
pilots  in  getting  away  from  hostile  ma- 
chines, for  when  a  man  is  spinning,  it  is 
almost  impossible  to  hit  him,  and  the  man 
making  the  attack  invariably  thinks  his 
enemy  is  going  down  to  certain  death  in 
the  spin. 

This  is  all  right  when  a  man  is  over  his 
own  territory,  because  he  can  right  his 
machine  and  come  out  of  it;  but  if  it  hap- 
pens over  German  territory,  the  Huns 
would  only  follow  him  down,  and  when  he 
came  out  of  the  spin  they  would  be  above 
him,  having  all  the  advantage,  and  would 
shoot  him  down  with  ease. 

It  is  a  good  way  of  getting  down  into 
17 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

a  cloud,  and  is  used  very  often  by  both 
sides,  but  it  requires  skill  and  courage  by 
the  pilot  making  it  if  he  ever  expects  to 
come  out  alive. 

A  spin  being  made  by  a  pilot  intention- 
ally looks  exactly  like  a  spin  that  is  made  by 
a  machine  actually  being  shot  down,  so 
one  never  knows  whether  it  is  forced  or  in- 
tentional until  the  pilot  either  rights  his 
machine  and  comes  out  of  it  or  crashes  to 
the  ground. 

Another  dive  similar  to  this  one  is 
known  as  just  the  plain  "dive."  Assume, 
for  instance,  that  a  pilot  flying  at  a  height 
of  several  thousand  feet  is  shot,  loses  con- 
trol of  his  machine,  and  the  nose  of  the 
plane  starts  down  with  the  motor  full  on. 
He  is  going  at  a  tremendous  speed  and 
in  many  instances  is  going  so  straight  and 
swiftly  that  the  speed  is  too  great  for  the 
machine,  because  it  was  never  constructed 
to  withstand  the  enormous  pressure  forced 
against  the  wings,  and  they  consequently 
crumple  up. 

If,  too,  in  an  effort  to  straighten  the 
machine,  the  elevators  should  become  af- 
fected, as  often  happens  in  trying  to  bring 

a  machine  out  of  a  dive,  the  strain  is  again 

18 


I   BECOME  A  FIGHTING-SCOUT 

too  great  on  the  wings,  and  there  is  the 
same  disastrous  result.  Oftentimes,  when 
the  petrol-tank  is  punctured  by  a  tracer- 
bullet  from  another  machine  in  the  air,  the 
plane  that  is  hit  catches  on  fire  and  either 
gets  into  a  spin  or  a  straight  dive  and  heads 
for  the  earth,  hundreds  of  miles  an  hour,  a 
mass  of  flame,  looking  like  a  brilliant  comet 
in  the  sky. 

The  spinning  nose  dive  is  used  to  greater 
advantage  by  the  Germans  than  by  our 
own  pilots,  for  the  reason  that  when  a  fight 
gets  too  hot  for  the  German  he  will  put 
his  machine  in  a  spin,  and  as  the  chances 
are  nine  out  of  ten  that  we  are  fighting 
over  German  territory,  he  simply  spins 
down  out  of  our  range,  straightens  out  be- 
fore he  reaches  the  ground,  and  goes  on 
home  to  his  aerodrome.  It  is  useless  to 
follow  him  down  inside  the  German  lines, 
for  you  would  in  all  probability  be  shot 
down  before  you  could  attain  sufficient  alti- 
tude to  cross  the  line  again. 

It  often  happens  that  a  pilot  will  be 
chasing  another  machine  when  suddenly 
he  sees  it  start  to  spin.  Perhaps  they  are 
fifteen  or  eighteen  thousand  feet  in  the 
air,  and  the  hostile  machine  spins  down 

19 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

for  thousands  of  feet.  He  thinks  he  has 
hit  the  other  machine  and  goes  home 
happy  that  he  has  brought  down  another 
Hun.  He  reports  the  occurrence  to  the 
squadron,  telling  how  he  shot  down  his 
enemy;  but  when  the  rest  of  the  squadron 
come  in  with  their  report,  or  some  artillery 
observation  balloon  sends  in  a  report,  it 
develops  that  when  a  few  hundred  feet 
from  the  ground  the  supposed  dead  man 
in  the  spin  has  come  out  of  the  spin  and 
gone  merrily  on  his  way  for  his  own  aero- 
drome. 


Ill 

CAPTURED  BY  THE  HUNS 

{SHALL  not  easily  forget  the  I7th  of 
August,  1917.  I  killed  two  Huns  in  a 
double-seated  machine  in  the  morning, 
another  in  the  evening,  and  then  I  was 
captured  myself.  I  may  have  spent  more 
eventful  days  in  my  life,  but  I  can't  recall 
any  just  now. 

That  morning,  in  crossing  the  line  on 
early  morning  patrol,  I  noticed  two  Ger- 
man balloons.  I  decided  that  as  soon  as 
my  patrol  was  over  I  would  go  off  on  my 
own  hook  and  see  what  a  German  balloon 
looked  like  at  close  quarters. 

These  observation  balloons  are  used  by 
both  sides  in  conjunction  with  the  artillery. 
A  man  sits  up  in  the  balloon  with  a  wireless 
apparatus  and  directs  the  firing  of  the  guns. 
From  his  point  of  vantage  he  can  follow 
the  work  of  his  own  artillery  with  a  re- 

21 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

markable  degree  of  accuracy  and  at  the 
same  time  he  can  observe  the  enemy's 
movements  and  report  them. 

The  Germans  are  very  good  at  this  work 
and  they  use  a  great  number  of  these  bal- 
loons. It  was  considered  a  very  important 
part  of  our  work  to  keep  them  out  of  the 
sky. 

There  are  two  ways  of  going  after  a  bal- 
loon in  a  machine.  One  of  them  is  to  cross 
the  lines  at  a  low  altitude,  flying  so  near 
the  ground  that  the  man  with  the  anti- 
aircraft gun  can't  bother  you.  You  fly 
along  until  you  get  to  the  level  of  the  bal- 
loon, and  if,  in  the  mean  time,  they  have  not 
drawn  the  balloon  down,  you  open  fire  on 
it  and  the  bullets  you  use  will  set  it  on  fire 
if  they  land. 

The  other  way  is  to  fly  over  where  you 
know  the  balloons  to  be,  put  your  machine 
in  a  spin  so  that  they  can't  hit  you,  get 
above  them,  spin  over  the  balloon,  and 
then  open  fire.  In  going  back  over  the 
line  you  cross  at  a  few  hundred  feet. 

This  is  one  of  the  hardest  jobs  in  the 
service.  There  is  less  danger  in  attacking 
an  enemy's  aircraft. 

Nevertheless,  I  had  made  up  my  mind 

22 


CAPTURED    BY   THE   HUNS 

either  to  get  those  balloons  or  make  them 
descend,  and  I  only  hoped  that  they  would 
stay  on  the  job  until  I  had  a  chance  at 
them. 

When  our  two  hours'  duty  was  up,  there- 
fore, I  dropped  out  of  the  formation  as  we 
crossed  the  lines  and  turned  back  again. 

I  was  at  a  height  of  fifteen  thousand  feet, 
considerably  higher  than  the  balloons. 
Shutting  my  motor  off,  I  dropped  down 
through  the  clouds,  thinking  to  find  the 
balloons  at  about  five  or  six  miles  behind 
the  German  lines. 

Just  as  I  came  out  of  the  cloud-banks  I 
saw  below  me,  about  a  thousand  feet,  a 
two-seater  hostile  machine  doing  artillery 
observation  and  directing  the  German 
guns.  This  was  at  a  point  about  four 
miles  behind  the  German  lines. 

Evidently  the  German  artillery  saw  me 
and  put  out  ground  signals  to  attract  the 
Hun  machine's  attention,  for  I  saw  the 
observer  quit  his  work  and  grab  his  gun, 
while  the  pilot  stuck  the  nose  of  his  ma- 
chine straight  down. 

But  they  were  too  late  to  escape  me.  I 
was  diving  toward  them  at  a  speed  of 
probably  two  hundred  miles  an  hour,  shoot- 
23 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

ing  all  the  time  as  fast  as  possible.  Their 
only  chance  lay  in  the  possibility  that  the 
force  of  my  dive  might  break  my  wings. 
I  knew  my  danger  in  that  direction,  but 
as  soon  as  I  came  out  of  my  dive  the  Huns 
would  have  their  chance  to  get  me,  and  I 
knew  I  had  to  get  them  first  and  take  a 
chance  on  my  wings  holding  out. 

Fortunately,  some  of  my  first  bullets 
found  their  mark  and  I  was  able  to  come 
out  of  my  dive  at  about  four  thousand 
feet.  They  never  came  out  of  theirs! 

But  right  then  came  the  hottest  situa- 
tion in  the  air  I  had  experienced  up  to 
that  time.  The  depth  of  my  dive  had 
brought  me  within  reach  of  the  machine- 
guns  from  the  ground  and  they  also  put 
a  "barrage"  around  me  of  shrapnel  from 
anti-aircraft  guns,  and  I  had  an  oppor- 
tunity to  "ride  the  barrage,"  as  they  call 
it  in  the  R.  F.  C.  To  make  the  situation 
more  interesting,  they  began  shooting 
"flaming  onions"  at  me. 

"Flaming  onions"  are  rockets  shot  from 
a  rocket-gun.  They  are  used  to  hit  a  ma- 
chine when  it  is  flying  low  and  they  are  ef- 
fective up  to  about  five  thousand  feet. 
Sometimes  they  are  shot  up  one  after  an- 
24 


CAPTURED    BY   THE   HUNS 

other  in  strings  of  about  eight,  and  they  are 
one  of  the  hardest  things  to  go  through. 
If  they  hit  the  machine  it  is  bound  to  catch 
fire  and  then  the  jig  is  up. 

All  the  time,  too,  I  was  being  attacked 
by  "Archie" — the  anti-aircraft  fire.  I 
escaped  the  machine-guns  and  the  "flam- 
ing onions,"  but  "Archie"  got  me  four  or 
five  times.  Every  time  a  bullet  plugged 
me,  or  rather  my  machine,  it  made  a  loud 
bang,  on  account  of  the  tension  on  the  ma- 
terial covering  the  wings. 

None  of  their  shots  hurt  me  until  I  was 
about  a  mile  from  our  lines,  and  then  they 
hit  my  motor.  Fortunately  I  still  had  al- 
titude enough  to  drift  on  to  our  own  side 
of  the  lines,  for  my  motor  was  completely 
out  of  commission.  They  just  raised  the 
dickens  with  me  all  the  time  I  was  descend- 
ing, and  I  began  to  think  I  would  strike  the 
ground  before  crossing  the  line,  but  there 
was  a  slight  wind  in  my  favor  and  it  carried 
me  two  miles  behind  our  lines.  There  the 
balloons  I  had  gone  out  to  get  had  the  sat- 
isfaction of  "pin-pointing"  me.  Through 
the  directions  which  they  were  able  to  give 
to  their  artillery,  they  commenced  shelling 
my  machine  where  it  lay. 
25 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

Their  particular  work  is  to  direct  the 
fire  of  their  artillery,  and  they  are  used  just 
as  the  artillery  observation  airplanes  are. 
Usually  two  men  are  stationed  in  each  bal- 
loon. They  ascend  to  a  height  of  several 
thousand  feet  about  five  miles  behind  their 
own  lines  and  are  equipped  with  wireless 
and  signaling  apparatus.  They  watch  the 
burst  of  their  own  artillery,  check  up  the 
position,  get  the  range,  and  direct  the  next 
shot. 

When  conditions  are  favorable  they  are 
able  to  direct  the  shots  so  accurately  that 
it  is  a  simple  matter  to  destroy  the  object  of 
their  attack.  It  was  such  a  balloon  as  this 
that  got  my  position,  marked  me  out, 
called  for  an  artillery  shot,  and  they  com- 
menced shelling  my  machine  where  it  lay. 
If  I  had  got  the  two  balloons  instead  of  the 
airplane,  I  probably  would  not  have  lost 
my  machine,  for  he  would  in  all  probability 
have  gone  on  home  and  not  bothered  about 
getting  my  range  and  causing  the  destruc- 
tion of  my  machine. 

I  landed  in  a  part  of  the  country  that 

was    literally    covered    with    shell-holes. 

Fortunately  my  machine  was  not  badly 

damaged  by  the  forced  landing.    I  lei- 

af 


CAPTURED    BY   THE   HUNS 

surely  got  out,  walked  around  it  to  see 
what  the  damage  was,  and  concluded  that 
it  could  be  easily  repaired.  In  fact,  I 
thought,  if  I  could  find  a  space  long  enough 
between  shell-holes  to  get  a  start  before 
leaving  the  ground,  that  I  would  be  able  to 
fly  on  from  there. 

I  was  still  examining  my  plane  and  con- 
sidering the  matter  of  a  few  slight  repairs, 
without  any  particular  thought  for  my  own 
safety  in  that  unprotected  spot,  when  a 
shell  came  whizzing  through  the  air, 
knocked  me  to  the  ground,  and  landed  a 
few  feet  away.  It  had  no  sooner  struck 
than  I  made  a  run  for  cover  and  crawled 
into  a  shell-hole.  I  would  have  liked  to 
have  got  farther  away,  but  I  didn't  know 
where  the  next  shell  would  burst,  and  I 
thought  I  was  fairly  safe  there,  so  I  squatted 
down  and  let  them  blaze  away. 

The  only  damage  I  suffered  was  from 
the  mud  which  splattered  up  in  my  face 
and  over  my  clothes.  That  was  my  intro- 
duction to  a  shell-hole,  and  I  resolved  right 
there  that  the  infantry  could  have  all  the 
shell-hole  fighting  they  wanted,  but  it 
did  not  appeal  to  me,  though  they  live 

in  them  through  many  a  long  night  and 
27 


OUTWITTING  THE   HUN 

I  had  only  sought  shelter  there  for  a  few 
minutes. 

After  the  Germans  had  completely  de- 
molished my  machine  and  ceased  firing  I 
waited  there  a  short  time,  fearing  perhaps 
they  might  send  over  a  lucky  shot,  hoping 
to  get  me,  after  all.  But  evidently  they 
concluded  enough  shells  had  been  wasted 
on  one  man.  I  crawled  out  cautiously, 
shook  the  mud  off,  and  looked  over  in  the 
direction  where  my  machine  had  once 
been.  There  wasn't  enough  left  for  a  de- 
cent souvenir,  but  nevertheless  I  got  a  few, 
such  as  they  were,  and,  readily  observing 
that  nothing  could  be  done  with  what  was 
left,  I  made  my  way  back  to  infantry 
headquarters,  where  I  was  able  to  tele- 
phone in  a  report. 

A  little  later  one  of  our  automobiles 
came  out  after  me  and  took  me  back  to 
our  aerodrome.  Most  of  my  squadron 
thought  I  was  lost  beyond  a  doubt  and 
never  expected  to  see  me  again;  but  my 
friend,  Paul  Raney,  had  held  out  that  I 
was  all  right,  and,  as  I  was  afterward 
told,  "Don't  send  for  another  pilot;  that 
Irishman  will  be  back  if  he  has  to  walk." 

And  he  knew  that  the  only  thing  that  kept 
28 


CAPTURED    BY   THE    HUNS 

me  from  walking  was  the  fact  that  our 
own  automobile  had  been  sent  out  to  bring 
me  home. 

I  had  lots  to  think  about  that  day,  and 
I  had  learned  many  things;  one  was  not  to 
have  too  much  confidence  in  my  own 
ability.  One  of  the  men  in  the  squadron 
told  me  that  I  had  better  not  take  those 
chances;  that  it  was  going  to  be  a  long 
war  and  I  would  have  plenty  of  oppor- 
tunities to  be  killed  without  deliberately 
"wishing  them  on"  myself.  Later  I  was 
to  learn  the  truth  of  his  statement. 

That  night  my  "flight" — each  squadron 
is  divided  into  three  flights  consisting  of 
six  men  each — got  ready  to  go  out  again. 
As  I  started  to  put  on  my  tunic  I  no- 
ticed that  I  was  not  marked  up  for  duty  as 
usual. 

I  asked  the  commanding  officer,  a  major, 
what  the  reason  for  that  was,  and  he  re- 
plied that  he  thought  I  had  done  enough 
for  one  day.  However,  I  knew  that  if  I 
did  not  go,  some  one  else  from  another 
"flight "  would  have  to  take  my  place,  and 
I  insisted  upon  going  up  with  my  patrol 
as  usual,  and  the  major  reluctantly  con- 
sented. Had  he  known  what  was  in  store 
29 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

for  me  I  am  sure  he  wouldn't  have  changed 
his  mind  so  readily. 

As  it  was,  we  had  only  five  machines 
for  this  patrol,  anyway,  because  as  we 
crossed  the  lines  one  of  them  had  to  drop 
out  on  account  of  motor  trouble.  Our  pa- 
trol was  up  at  8  P.M.,  and  up  to  within  ten 
minutes  of  that  hour  it  had  been  entirely 
uneventful. 

At  7.50  P.M.,  however,  while  we  were 
flying  at  a  height  of  sixteen  thousand  feet, 
we  observed  three  other  English  machines 
which  were  about  three  thousand  feet  be- 
low us  pick  a  fight  with  nine  Hun  machines. 

I  knew  right  then  that  we  were  in  for  it, 
because  I  could  see  over  toward  the  ocean 
a  whole  flock  of  Hun  machines  which 
evidently  had  escaped  the  attention  of  our 
scrappy  comrades  below  us. 

So  we  dove  down  on  those  nine  Huns. 

At  first  the  fight  was  fairly  even.  There 
were  eight  of  us  to  nine  of  them.  But 
soon  the  other  machines  which  I  had  seen 
in  the  distance,  and  which  were  flying  even 
higher  than  we  were,  arrived  on  the  scene, 
and  when  they,  in  turn,  dove  down  on  us, 
there  was  just  twenty  of  them  to  our  eight ! 

Four  of  them  singled  me  out.  I  was 
30 


CAPTURED    BY   THE    HUNS 

diving  and  they  dove  right  down  after  me, 
shooting  as  they  came.  Their  tracer- 
bullets  were  coming  closer  to  me  every  mo- 
ment. These  tracer-bullets  are  balls  of 
fire  which  enable  the  shooter  to  follow  the 
course  his  bullets  are  taking  and  to  correct 
his  aim  accordingly.  They  do  no  more 
harm  to  a  pilot  if  he  is  hit  than  an  or- 
dinary bullet,  but  if  they  hit  the  petrol- 
tank,  good  night!  When  a  machine 
catches  fire  in  flight  there  is  no  way  of 
putting  it  out.  It  takes  less  than  a  minute 
for  the  fabric  to  burn  off  the  wings,  and 
then  the  machine  drops  like  an  arrow> 
leaving  a  trail  of  smoke  like  a  comet. 

As  their  tracer-bullets  came  closer  and 
closer  to  me  I  realized  that  my  chances  of 
escape  were  nil.  Their  very  next  shot,  I 
felt,  must  hit  me. 

Once,  some  days  before,  when  I  was 
flying  over  the  line  I  had  watched  a  fight 
above  me.  A  German  machine  was  set 
on  fire  and  dove  down  through  our  forma- 
tion in  flame  on  its  way  to  the  ground. 
The  Hun  was  diving  at  such  a  sharp  angle 
that  both  his  wings  came  off,  and  as  he 
passed  within  a  few  hundred  feet  of  me 
I  saw  the  look  of  horror  upon  his  face. 
3  31 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

Now,  when  I  expected  any  moment  to 
suffer  a  similar  fate,  I  could  not  help 
thinking  of  that  poor  Hun's  last  look  of 
agony. 

I  realized  that  my  only  chance  lay  in 
making  an  Immermann  turn.  This  ma- 
neuver was  invented  by  a  German — one 
of  the  greatest  who  ever  flew  and  who  was 
killed  in  action  some  time  ago.  This  turn, 
which  I  made  successfully,  brought  one  of 
their  machines  right  in  front  of  me,  and 
as  he  sailed  along  barely  ten  yards  away 
I  had  "the  drop"  on  him,  and  he  knew  it. 

His  white  face  and  startled  eyes  I  can 
still  see.  He  knew  beyond  question  that 
his  last  moment  had  come,  because  his 
position  prevented  his  taking  aim  at  me, 
while  my  gun  pointed  straight  at  him.  My 
first  tracer-bullet  passed  within  a  yard  of 
his  head,  the  second  looked  as  if  it  hit  his 
shoulder,  the  third  struck  him  in  the  neck, 
and  then  I  let  him  have  the  whole  works 
and  he  went  down  in  a  spinning  nose  dive. 

All  this  time  the  three  other  Hun  ma- 
chines were  shooting  away  at  me.  I  could 
hear  the  bullets  striking  my  machine  one 
after  another.  I  hadn't  the  slightest  idea 
that  I  could  ever  beat  off  those  three  Huns, 
32 


CAPTURED   BY   THE   HUNS 

but  there  was  nothing  for  me  to  do  but 
fight,  and  my  hands  were  full. 

In  fighting,  your  machine  is  dropping, 
dropping  all  the  time.  I  glanced  at  my 
instruments  and  my  altitude  was  between 
eight  and  nine  thousand  feet.  While 
I  was  still  looking  at  the  instruments  the 
whole  blamed  works  disappeared.  A  burst 
of  bullets  went  into  the  instrument  board 
and  blew  it  to  smithereens,  another  bullet 
went  through  my  upper  lip,  came  out  of 
the  roof  of  my  mouth  and  lodged  in  my 
throat,  and  the  next  thing  I  knew  was 
when  I  came  to  in  a  German  hospital  the 
following  morning  at  five  o'clock,  German 
time. 

I  was  a  prisoner  of  war! 


IV 

CLIPPED  WINGS 

*T*HE  hospital  in  which  I  found  myself 
1  on  the  morning  after  my  capture  was 
a  private  house  made  of  brick,  very  low 
and  dirty,  and  not  at  all  adapted  for  use 
as  a  hospital.  It  had  evidently  been  used 
but  a  few  days,  on  account  of  the  big  push 
that  was  taking  place  at  that  time  of  the 
year,  and  in  all  probability  would  be 
abandoned  as  soon  as  they  had  found  a 
better  place. 

In  all,  the  house  contained  four  rooms 
and  a  stable,  which  was  by  far  the  largest 
of  all.  Although  I  never  looked  into  this 
"wing"  of  the  hospital,  I  was  told  that  it, 
too,  was  filled  with  patients,  lying  on  beds 
of  straw  around  on  the  ground.  I  do  not 
know  whether  they,  too,  were  officers  or 
privates. 

The  room  in  which  I  found  myself  con- 
34 


CLIPPED   WINGS 

tained  eight  beds,  three  of  which  were  oc- 
cupied by  wounded  German  officers.  The 
other  rooms,  I  imagined,  had  about  the 
same  number  of  beds  as  mine.  There  were 
no  Red  Cross  nurses  in  attendance,  just 
orderlies,  for  this  was  only  an  emergency 
hospital  and  too  near  the  firing-line  for 
nurses.  The  orderlies  were  not  old  men 
nor  very  young  boys,  as  I  expected  to  find, 
but  young  men  in  the  prime  of  life,  who 
evidently  had  been  medical  students.  One 
or  two  of  them,  I  discovered,  were  able  to 
speak  English,  but  for  some  reason  they 
would  not  talk.  Perhaps  they  were  for- 
bidden by  the  officer  in  charge  to  do  so. 

In  addition  to  the  bullet  wound  in  my 
mouth,  I  had  a  swelling  from  my  forehead 
to  the  back  of  my  head  almost  as  big  as 
my  shoe — and  that  is  saying  considerable. 
I  couldn't  move  an  inch  without  suffering 
intense  pain,  and  when  the  doctor  told  me 
that  I  had  no  bones  broken  I  wondered 
how  a  fellow  would  feel  who  had. 

German  officers  visited  me  that  morning 
and  told  me  that  my  machine  went  down 
in  a  spinning  nose  dive  from  a  height  of 
between  eight  and  nine  thousand  feet,  and 
they  had  the  surprise  of  their  lives  when 
35 


OUTWITTING    THE    HUN 

they  discovered  that  I  had  not  been 
dashed  to  pieces.  They  had  to  cut  me  out 
of  my  machine,  which  was  riddled  with 
shots  and  shattered  to  bits. 

A  German  doctor  removed  the  bullet 
from  my  throat,  and  the  first  thing  he  said 
to  me  when  I  came  to  was,  "You  are  an 
American!" 

There  was  no  use  denying  it,  because  the 
metal  identification  disk  on  my  wrist  bore 
the  inscription,  "Pat  O'Brien,  U.  S.  A. 
Royal  Flying  Corps." 

Although  I  was  suffering  intense  agony, 
the  doctor,  who  spoke  perfect  English, 
insisted  upon  conversing  with  me. 

"You  may  be  all  right  as  a  sportsman," 
he  declared,  "but  you  are  a  damned  mur- 
derer just  the  same  for  being  here.  You 
Americans  who  got  into  this  thing  before 
America  came  into  the  war  are  no  better 
than  common  murderers  and  you  ought  to 
be  treated  the  same  way!" 

The  wound  in  my  mouth  made  it  impos- 
sible for  me  to  answer  him,  and  I  was  suf- 
fering too  much  pain  to  be  hurt  very  much 
by  anything  he  could  say. 

He  asked  me  if  I  would  like  an  apple! 
I  could  just  as  easily  have  eaten  a  brick. 
36 


CLIPPED   WINGS 

When  he  got  no  answers  out  of  me  he 
walked  away  disgustedly. 

"You  don't  have  to  worry  any  more," 
he  declared,  as  a  parting  shot;  "for  you 
the  war  is  over!" 

I  was  given  a  little  broth  later  in  the  day, 
and  as  I  began  to  collect  my  thoughts  I 
wondered  what  had  happened  to  my  com- 
rades in  the  battle  which  had  resulted  so 
disastrously  to  me.  As  I  began  to  realize 
my  plight  I  worried  less  about  my  physical 
condition  than  the  fact  that,  as  the  doctor 
had  pointed  out,  for  me  the  war  was  prac- 
tically over.  I  had  been  in  it  but  a  short 
time,  and  now  I  would  be  a  prisoner  for  the 
duration  of  the  war! 

The  next  day  some  German  flying  of- 
ficers visited  me,  and  I  must  say  they 
treated  me  with  great  consideration.  They 
told  me  of  the  man  I  had  brought  down. 
They  said  he  was  a  Bavarian  and  a  fairly 
good  pilot.  They  gave  me  his  hat  as  a 
souvenir  and  complimented  me  on  the 
fight  I  had  put  up. 

My  helmet,  which  was  of  soft  leather, 

was  split  from  front  to  back  by  a  bullet 

from  a  machine  -  gun  and  they  examined 

it  with  great  interest.    When  they  brought 

37 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

me  my  uniform  I  found  that  the  star  of 
my  rank  which  had  been  on  my  right 
shoulder-strap  had  been  shot  off  clean. 
The  one  on  my  left  shoulder-strap  they 
asked  me  for  as  a  souvenir,  as  also  my 
R.  F.  C.  badges,  which  I  gave  them.  They 
allowed  me  to  keep  my  "wings,"  which  I 
wore  on  my  left  breast,  because  they  were 
aware  that  that  is  the  proudest  possession 
of  a  British  flying  officer. 

I  think  I  am  right  in  saying  that  the  only 
chivalry  in  this  war  on  the  German  side 
of  the  trenches  has  been  displayed  by  the 
officers  of  the  German  Flying  Corps, 
which  comprises  the  pick  of  Germany. 
They  pointed  out  to  me  that  I  and  my 
comrades  were  fighting  purely  for  the  love 
of  it,  whereas  they  were  fighting  in  defense 
of  their  country,  but  still,  they  said,  they 
admired  us  for  our  sportsmanship.  I  had 
a  notion  to  ask  them  if  dropping  bombs  on 
London  and  killing  so  many  innocent 
people  was  in  defense  of  their  country,  but 
I  was  in  no  position  or  condition  to  pick 
a  quarrel  at  that  time. 

That  same  day  a  German  officer  was 
brought  into  the  hospital  and  put  in  the 
bunk  next  to  mine.  Of  course,  I  casually 
38 


CLIPPED   WINGS 

looked  at  him,  but  did  not  pay  any  par- 
ticular attention  to  him  at  that  time.  He 
lay  there  for  three  or  four  hours  before  I 
did  take  a  real  good  look  at  him.  I  was 
positive  that  he  could  not  speak  English, 
and  naturally  I  did  not  say  anything  to 
him. 

Once  when  I  looked  over  in  his  direction 
his  eyes  were  on  me  and  to  my  surprise  he 
said,  very  sarcastically,  "What  the  hell  are 
you  looking  at?"  and  then  smiled.  At  this 
time  I  was  just  beginning  to  say  a  few 
words,  my  wound  having  made  talking 
difficult,  but  I  said  enough  to  let  him  know 
what  I  was  doing  there  and  how  I  happened 
to  be  there.  Evidently  he  had  heard  my 
story  from  some  of  the  others,  though,  be- 
cause he  said  it  was  too  bad  I  had  not 
broken  my  neck;  that  he  did  not  have  much 
sympathy  with  the  Flying  Corps,  anyway. 
He  asked  me  what  part  of  America  I  came 
from,  and  I  told  him  "California." 

After  a  few  more  questions  he  learned 
that  I  hailed  from  San  Francisco,  and  then 
added  to  my  distress  by  saying,  "How 
would  you  like  to  have  a  good  juicy  steak 
right  out  of  the  Hofbrau?"  Naturally,  I 
told  him  it  would  "hit  the  spot,"  but  I 
39 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

hardly  thought  my  mouth  was  in  shape  just 
then  to  eat  it.  I  immediately  asked,  of 
course,  what  he  knew  about  the  Hofbrau, 
and  he  replied,  "I  was  connected  with  the 
place  a  good  many  years,  and  I  ought  to 
know  all  about  it." 

After  that  this  German  officer  and  I  be- 
came rather  chummy — that  is,  as  far  as  I 
could  be  chummy  with  an  enemy,  and  we 
whiled  away  a  good  many  long  hours  talk- 
ing about  the  days  we  had  spent  in  San 
Francisco,  and  frequently  in  the  conver- 
sation one  of  us  would  mention  some 
prominent  Californian,  or  some  little  in- 
cident occurring  there,  with  which  we  were 
both  familiar. 

He  told  me  when  war  was  declared  he 
was,  of  course,  intensely  patriotic  and 
thought  the  only  thing  for  him  to  do  was 
to  go  back  and  aid  in  the  defense  of  his 
country.  He  found  that  he  could  not  go 
directly  from  San  Francisco  because  the 
water  was  too  well  guarded  by  the  Eng- 
lish, so  he  boarded  a  boat  for  South  Amer- 
ica. There  he  obtained  a  forged  passport 
and  in  the  guise  of  a  Montevidean  took 
passage  for  New  York  and  from  there  to 
England. 

40 


CLIPPED   WINGS 

He  passed  through  England  without  any 
difficulty  on  his  forged  passport,  but  con- 
cluded not  to  risk  going  to  Holland,  for 
fear  of  exciting  too  much  suspicion,  so 
went  down  through  the  Strait  of  Gibraltar 
to  Italy,  which  was  neutral  at  that  time, 
up  to  Austria,  and  thence  to  Germany. 
He  said  when  they  put  in  at  Gibraltar, 
after  leaving  England,  there  were  two 
suspects  taken  off  the  ship,  men  that  he 
was  sure  were  neutral  subjects,  but  much 
to  his  relief  his  own  passport  and  creden- 
tials were  examined  and  passed  O.  K. 

The  Hun  spoke  of  his  voyage  from 
America  to  England  as  being  exception- 
ally pleasant,  and  said  he  had  had  a  fine 
time  because  he  associated  with  the  Eng- 
lish passengers  on  board,  his  fluent  English 
readily  admitting  him  to  several  spirited 
arguments  on  the  subject  of  the  war  which 
he  keenly  enjoyed. 

One  little  incident  he  related  revealed  the 
remarkable  tact  which  our  enemy  displayed 
in  his  associations  at  sea,  which  no  doubt 
resulted  advantageously  for  him.  As  he  ex- 
pressed it,  he  "made  a  hit"  one  evening 
when  the  crowd  had  assembled  for  a  little 
music  by  suggesting  that  they  sing  "God 
41 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

Save  the  King. ' '  Thereafter  his  popularity 
was  assured  and  the  desired  effect  accom- 
plished, for  very  soon  a  French  officer  came 
up  to  him  and  said,  "  It's  too  bad  that  Eng- 
land and  ourselves  haven't  men  in  our  army 
like  you."  It  was  too  bad,  he  agreed,  in 
telling  me  about  it,  because  he  was  con- 
fident he  could  have  done  a  whole  lot  more 
for  Germany  if  he  had  been  in  the  English 
army. 

In  spite  of  his  apparent  loyalty,  however, 
the  man  didn't  seem  very  enthusiastic  over 
the  war  and  frankly  admitted  one  day  that 
the  old  political  battles  waged  in  California 
were  much  more  to  his  liking  than  the  bat- 
tles he  had  gone  through  over  here.  On 
second  thought  he  laughed  as  though  it 
were  a  good  joke,  but  he  evidently  intended 
me  to  infer  that  he  had  taken  a  keen  in- 
terest in  politics  in  San  Francisco. 

When  my  "chummy  enemy"  first 
started  his  conversation  with  me  the  Ger- 
man doctor  in  charge  reprimanded  him 
for  talking  to  me,  but  he  paid  no  attention 
to  the  doctor,  showing  that  some  real 
Americanism  had  soaked  into  his  system 
while  he  had  been  in  the  U.  S.  A. 

I  asked  him  one  day  what  he  thought  the 
42 


CLIPPED    WINGS 

German  people  would  do  after  the  war; 
if  he  thought  they  would  make  Germany 
a  republic,  and,  much  to  my  surprise,  he 
said,  very  bitterly,  "  If  I  had  my  way  about 
it,  I  would  make  her  a  republic  to-day  and 
hang  the  damned  Kaiser  in  the  bargain." 
And  yet  he  was  considered  an  excellent 
soldier.  I  concluded,  however,  that  he 
must  have  been  a  German  Socialist,  though 
he  never  told  me  so. 

On  one  occasion  I  asked  him  for  his 
name,  but  he  said  that  I  would  probably 
never  see  him  again  and  it  didn't  matter 
what  his  name  was.  I  did  not  know 
whether  he  meant  that  the  Germans  would 
starve  me  out  or  just  what  was  on  his 
mind,  for  at  that  time  I  am  sure  he  did  not 
figure  on  dying.  The  first  two  or  three 
days  I  was  in  the  hospital  I  thought 
surely  he  would  be  up  and  gone  long  be- 
fore I  was,  but  blood  poisoning  set  in 
about  that  time  and  just  a  few  hours  be- 
fore I  left  for  Courtrai  he  died. 

One  of  those  days,  while  my  wound  was 
still  very  troublesome,  I  was  given  an 
apple ;  whether  it  was  just  to  torment  me, 
knowing  that  I  could  not  eat  it,  or  whether 
for  some  other  reason,  I  do  not  know. 

43 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

But,  anyway,  a  German  flying  officer  there 
had  several  in  his  pockets  and  gave  me  a 
nice  one.  Of  course,  there  was  no  chance 
of  my  eating  it,  so  when  the  officer  had 
gone  and  I  discovered  this  San  Francisco 
fellow  looking  at  it  rather  longingly  I 
picked  it  up,  intending  to  toss  it  over  to 
him.  But  he  shook  his  head  and  said, 
"If  this  was  San  Francisco,  I  would  take 
it,  but  I  cannot  take  it  from  you  here." 
I  was  never  able  to  understand  just  why 
he  refused  the  apple,  for  he  was  usually 
sociable  and  a  good  fellow  to  talk  to,  but 
apparently  he  could  not  forget  that  I  was 
his  enemy.  However,  that  did  not  stop 
one  of  the  orderlies  from  eating  the 
apple. 

One  practice  about  the  hospital  which 
impressed  me  particularly  was  that  if  a 
German  soldier  did  not  stand  much  chance 
of  recovering  sufficiently  to  take  his  place 
again  in  the  war,  the  doctors  did  not  exert 
themselves  to  see  that  he  got  well.  But  if 
a  man  had  a  fairly  good  chance  of  recover- 
ing and  they  thought  he  might  be  of  some 
further  use,  everything  that  medical  skill 
could  possibly  do  was  done  for  him.  I 
don't  know  whether  this  was  done  under 

44 


CLIPPED    WINGS 

orders  or  whether  the  doctors  just  followed 
their  own  inclinations  in  such  cases. 

My  teeth  had  been  badly  jarred  up  from 
the  shot,  and  I  hoped  that  I  might  have  a 
chance  to  have  them  fixed  when  I  reached 
Court rai,  the  prison  where  I  was  to  be 
taken.  So  I  asked  the  doctor  if  it  would  be 
possible  for  me  to  have  this  work  done 
there,  but  he  very  curtly  told  me  that 
though  there  were  several  dentists  at 
Courtrai,  they  were  busy  enough  fixing  the 
teeth  of  their  own  men  without  bother- 
ing about  mine.  He  also  added  that  I 
would  not  have  to  worry  about  my  teeth; 
that  I  wouldn't  be  getting  so  much  food 
that  they  would  be  put  out  of  commission 
by  working  overtime.  I  wanted  to  tell 
him  that  from  the  way  things  looked  he 
would  not  be  wearing  his  out  very  soon, 
either. 

My  condition  improved  during  the  next 
two  days  and  on  the  fourth  day  of  my 
captivity  I  was  well  enough  to  write  a 
brief  message  to  my  squadron  reporting 
that  I  was  a  prisoner  of  war  and  "feeling 
fine,"  although,  as  a  matter  of.  fact,  I  was 
never  so  depressed  in  my  life.  I  realized, 
however,  that  if  the  message  reached  my 

45 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

comrades,  it  would  be  relayed  to  my 
mother  in  Momence,  Illinois,  and  I  did 
not  want  to  worry  her  more  than  was  ab- 
solutely necessary.  It  was  enough  for  her 
to  know  that  I  was  a  prisoner.  She  did 
not  have  to  know  that  I  was  wounded. 

I  had  hopes  that  my  message  would  be 
carried  over  the  lines  and  dropped  by  one 
of  the  German  flying  officers.  That  is  a 
courtesy  which  is  usually  practised  on 
both  sides.  I  recalled  how  patiently  we 
had  waited  in  our  aerodrome  for  news  of 
our  men  who  had  failed  to  return,  and  I 
could  picture  my  squadron  speculating  on 
my  fate. 

That  is  one  of  the  saddest  things  con- 
nected with  service  in  the  R.  P.  C.  You 
don't  care  much  what  happens  to  you, 
but  the  constant  casualties  among  your 
friends  is  very  depressing. 

You  go  out  with  your  "flight"  and  get 
into  a  muss.  You  get  scattered  and  when 
your  formation  is  broken  up  you  finally 
wing  your  way  home  alone. 

Perhaps  you  are  the  first  to  land.     Soon 

another  machine  shows  in  the  sky,  then 

another,  and  you  patiently  wait  for  the 

rest  to  appear.     Within  an  hour,  perhaps, 

46 


CLIPPED   WINGS 

all  have  shown  up  save  one,  and  you  begin 
to  speculate  and  wonder  what  has  hap- 
pened to  him. 

Has  he  lost  his  way?  Has  he  landed  at 
some  other  aerodrome?  Did  the  Huns 
get  him? 

When  darkness  comes  you  realize  that, 
at  any  rate,  he  won't  be  back  that  night, 
and  you  hope  for  a  telephone-call  from 
him  telling  of  his  whereabouts. 

If  the  night  passes  without  sign  or  word 
from  him  he  is  reported  as  missing,  and 
then  you  watch  for  his  casualty  to  appear 
in  the  war-office  lists. 

One  day,  perhaps  a  month  later,  a  mes- 
sage is  dropped  over  the  line  by  the  Ger- 
man Flying  Corps  with  a  list  of  pilots  capt- 
ured or  killed  by  the  Huns,  and  then,  for 
the  first  time,  you  know  definitely  why  it 
was  your  comrade  failed  to  return  the  day 
he  last  went  over  the  line  with  his  squadron. 

I  was  still  musing  over  this  melancholy- 
phase  of  the  scout's  life  when  an  orderly 
told  me  there  was  a  beautiful  battle  going- 
on  in  the  air,  and  he  volunteered  to  help, 
me  outside  the  hospital  that  I  might  wit- 
ness it,  and  I  readily  accepted  his  as- 
sistance. 
4  47 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

That  afternoon  I  saw  one  of  the  gamest 
fights  I  ever  expect  to  witness. 

There  were  six  of  our  machines  against 
perhaps  sixteen  Huns.  From  the  type  of 
the  British  machines  I  knew  that  they 
might  possibly  be  from  my  own  aerodrome. 
Two  of  our  machines  had  been  apparently 
picked  out  by  six  of  the  Huns  and  were 
bearing  the  brunt  of  the  fight.  The  con- 
test seemed  to  me  to  be  so  unequal  that 
victory  for  our  men  was  hardly  to  be 
thought  of,  and  yet  at  one  time  they  so 
completely  outmaneuvered  the  Huns  that 
I  thought  their  superior  skill  might  save 
the  day  for  them,  despite  the  fact  that 
they  were  so  hopelessly  outnumbered.  One 
thing  I  was  sure  of:  they  would  never 
give  in. 

Of  course  it  would  have  been  a  com- 
paratively simple  matter  for  our  men, 
when  they  saw  how  things  were  going 
against  them,  to  have  turned  their  noses 
down,  landed  behind  the  German  lines, 
and  given  themselves  up  as  prisoners,  but 
that  is  not  the  way  of  the  R.  F.  C. 

A  battle  of  this  kind  seldom  lasts  many 
minutes,  although  every  second  seems  like 
an  hour  to  those  who  participate  in  it 

48 


CLIPPED   WINGS 

and  even  onlookers  suffer  more  thrills  in 
the  course  of  the  struggle  than  they  would 
ordinarily  experience  in  a  lifetime.  It  is 
apparent  even  to  a  novice  that  the  loser's 
fate  is  death. 

Of  course  the  Germans  around  the  hos- 
pital were  all  watching  and  rooting  for 
their  comrades,  but  the  English,  too,  had 
one  sympathizer  in  that  group  who  made 
no  effort  to  stifle  his  admiration  for  the 
bravery  his  comrades  were  displaying. 

The  end  came  suddenly.  Four  ma- 
chines crashed  to  earth  almost  simultane- 
ously. It  was  an  even  break — two  of 
theirs  and  two  of  ours.  The  others  ap- 
parently returned  to  their  respective  lines. 

The  wound  in  my  mouth  was  bothering 
me  considerably,  but  by  means  of  a  pencil 
and  paper  I  requested  one  of  the  German 
officers  to  find  out  for  me  who  the  English 
officers  were  who  had  been  shot  down. 

A  little  later  he  returned  and  handed  me 
a  photograph  taken  from  the  body  of  one 
of  the  victims.  It  was  a  picture  of  Paul 
Raney,  of  Toronto,  and  myself,  taken  to- 
gether! Poor  Raney!  He  was  the  best 
friend  I  had  and  one  of  the  best  and  gamest 
men  who  ever  fought  in  France! 

49 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

It  was  he,  I  learned  long  after,  who, 
when  I  was  reported  missing,  had  checked 
over  all  my  belongings  and  sent  them  back 
to  England  with  a  signed  memorandum — 
which  is  now  in  my  possession.  Poor  fel- 
low, he  little  realized  then  that  but  a  day 
or  two  later  he  would  be  engaged  in  his 
last  heroic  battle,  with  me  a  helpless  on- 
looker! 

The  same  German  officer  who  brought 
me  the  photograph  also  drew  a  map  for 
me  of  the  exact  spot  where  Raney  was 
buried  in  Flanders.  I  guarded  it  care- 
fully all  through  my  subsequent  advent- 
ures and  finally  turned  it  over  to  his 
father  and  mother  when  I  visited  them  in 
Toronto  to  perform  the  hardest  and  sad- 
dest duty  I  have  ever  been  called  upon  to 
execute — to  confirm  to  them  in  person  the 
tidings  of  poor  Paul's  death. 

The  other  British  pilot  who  fell  was  also 
from  my  squadron  and  a  man  I  knew  well 
— Lieutenant  Keith,  of  Australia.  I  had 
given  him  a  picture  of  myself  only  a  few 
hours  before  I  started  on  my  own  dis- 
astrous flight.  He  was  one  of  the  star 
pilots  of  our  squadron  and  had  been  in 
many  a  desperate  battle  before,  but  this 

so 


LIEUT.    PAUL    H.    RANEY    OF    TORONTO    AND    LIEUT.    PAT    O'BRIEN 

(Raney  was  killed  in  action  before  the  eyes  of  O'Brien,  who  was  a  prisoner  of  war. 
This  picture,  found  on  the  body  of  Raney  when  he  fell  behind  the  German  lines,  was 
handed  to  O'Brien  to  identify  the  victim.) 


CLIPPED   WINGS 

time  the  odds  were  too  great  for  him. 
He  put  up  a  wonderful  fight  and  he  gave 
as  much  as  he  took. 

The  next  two  days  passed  without  in- 
cident and  I  was  then  taken  to  the  In- 
telligence Department  of  the  German  Fly- 
ing Corps,  which  was  located  about  an  hour 
from  the  hospital.  There  I  was  kept  two 
days,  during  which  time  they  put  a  thou- 
sand and  one  questions  to  me.  While  I 
was  there  I  turned  over  to  them  the  mes- 
sage I  had  written  in  the  hospital  and 
asked  them  to  have  one  of  their  fliers 
drop  it  on  our  side  of  the  line. 

They  asked  me  where  I  would  like  it 
dropped,  thinking  perhaps  I  would  give 
my  aerodrome  away,  but  when  I  smiled 
and  shook  my  head  they  did  not  insist 
upon  an  answer. 

"I'll  drop  it  over ,"  declared  one  of 

them,  naming  my  aerodrome,  which  re- 
vealed to  me  that  their  flying  corps  is  as 
efficient  as  other  branches  of  the  service 
in  the  matter  of  obtaining  valuable  in- 
formation. 

And  right  here  I  want  to  say  that  the 
more  I  came  to  know  of  the  enemy  the 
more  keenly  I  realized  what  a  difficult 
51 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

task  we're  going  to  have  to  lick  him.  In 
all  my  subsequent  experience  the  fact  that 
there  is  a  heap  of  fight  left  in  the  Huns 
still  was  thoroughly  brought  home  to  me. 
We  shall  win  the  war  eventually,  if  we 
don't  slow  up  too  soon  in  the  mistaken  idea 
that  the  Huns  are  ready  to  lie  down. 

The  flying  officers  who  questioned  me 
were  extremely  anxious  to  find  out  all  they 
could  about  the  part  America  is  going  to 
play  in  the  war,  but  they  evidently  came 
to  the  conclusion  that  America  hadn't 
taken  me  very  deeply  into  her  confidence, 
judging  from  the  information  they  got,  or 
failed  to  get,  from  me. 

At  any  rate,  they  gave  me  up  as  a  bad 
job  and  I  was  ordered  to  the  officers' 
prison  at  Courtrai,  Belgium. 


THE   PRISON-CAMP  AT   COURTRAI 

FROM  the  Intelligence  Department  I 
was  conveyed  to  the  officers'  prison- 
camp  at  Courtrai  in  an  automobile.  It 
was  about  an  hour's  ride.  My  escort  was 
one  of  the  most  famous  flyers  in  the  world, 
barring  none.  He  was  later  killed  in  ac- 
tion, but  I  was  told  by  an  English  airman 
who  witnessed  his  last  combat  that  he 
fought  a  game  battle  and  died  a  hero's 
death. 

The  prison,  which  had  evidently  been  a 
civil  prison  of  some  kind  before  the  war, 
was  located  right  in  the  heart  of  Courtrai. 
The  first  building  we  approached  was 
large,  and  in  front  of  the  archway,  which 
formed  the  main  entrance,  was  a  sentry 
box.  Here  we  were  challenged  by  the 
sentry,  who  knocked  on  the  door;  the 
guard  turned  the  key  in  the  lock  and  I  was 
53 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

admitted.  We  passed  through  the  arch- 
way and  directly  into  a  courtyard,  on 
which  faced  all  of  the  prison  buildings,  the 
windows,  of  course,  being  heavily  barred. 

After  I  had  given  my  pedigree — my  name, 
age,  address,  etc. — I  was  shown  to  a  cell 
with  bars  on  the  windows  overlooking  this 
courtyard.  I  was  promptly  told  that  at 
night  we  were  to  occupy  these  rooms,  but 
I  had  already  surveyed  the  surroundings, 
taken  account  of  the  number  of  guards  and 
the  locked  door  outside,  and  concluded  that 
my  chances  of  getting  away  from  some 
other  place  could  be  no  worse  than  in  that 
particular  cell. 

As  I  had  no  hat,  my  helmet  being  the 
only  thing  I  wore  over  the  lines,  I  was  com- 
pelled either  to  go  bareheaded  or  wear  the 
red  cap  of  the  Bavarian  whom  I  had  shot 
down  on  that  memorable  day.  It  can  be 
imagined  how  I  looked  attired  in  a  British 
uniform  and  a  bright  red  cap.  Wherever 
I  was  taken,  my  outfit  aroused  consider- 
able curiosity  among  the  Belgians  and  Ger- 
man soldiers. 

When  I  arrived  at  prison  that  day  I  still 
wore  this  cap,  and  as  I  was  taken  into  the 
courtyard,  my  overcoat  covering  my  uni- 
54 


THE  PRISON-CAMP  AT  COURTRAI 

form,  all  that  the  British  officers  who  hap- 
pened to  be  sunning  themselves  in  the  court- 
yard could  see  was  the  red  cap.  They 
afterward  told  me  they  wondered  who  the 
"big  Hun"  was  with  the  bandage  on  his 
mouth.  This  cap  I  managed  to  keep  with 
me,  but  was  never  allowed  to  wear  it  on 
the  walks  we  took.  I  either  went  bare- 
headed or  borrowed  a  cap  from  some  other 
prisoner. 

At  certain  hours  each  day  the  prisoners 
were  allowed  to  mingle  in  the  courtyard, 
and  on  the  first  occasion  of  this  kind  I 
found  that  there  were  eleven  officers  im- 
prisoned there  besides  myself. 

They  had  here  interpreters  who  could 
speak  all  languages.  One  of  them  was  a 
mere  boy  who  had  been  born  in  Jersey 
City,  New  Jersey,  and  had  spent  all  his 
life  in  America  until  the  beginning  of 
1914.  Then  he  moved  with  his  folks  to 
Germany,  and  when  he  became  of  military 
age  the  Huns  forced  him  into  the  army. 
I  think  if  the  truth  were  known  he  would 
much  rather  have  been  fighting  for  Amer- 
ica than  against  her. 

I  found  that  most  of  the  prisoners  re- 
mained at  Courtrai  only  two  or  three  days. 
55 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

From  there  they  were  invariably  taken  to 
prisons  in  the  interior  of  Germany. 

Whether  it  was  because  I  was  an  Amer- 
ican or  because  I  was  a  flier,  I  don't  know, 
but  this  rule  was  not  followed  in  my  case. 
I  remained  there  two  weeks. 

During  that  period,  Courtrai  was  con- 
stantly bombed  by  our  airmen.  Not  a 
single  day  or  night  passed  without  one  or 
more  air  raids.  In  the  two  weeks  I  was 
there  I  counted  twenty-one  of  them.  The 
town  suffered  a  great  deal  of  damage. 
Evidently  our  people  were  aware  that  the 
Germans  had  a  lot  of  troops  concentrated 
in  this  town,  and,  besides,  the  headquarters 
staff  was  stationed  there.  The  Kaiser 
himself  visited  Courtrai  while  I  was  in  the 
prison,  I  was  told  by  one  of  the  inter- 
preters, but  he  didn't  call  on  me  and, 
for  obvious  reasons,  I  couldn't  call  on 
him. 

The  courtyard  was  not  a  very  popular 
place  during  air  raids.  Several  times 
when  our  airmen  raided  that  section  in 
the  daytime  I  went  out  and  watched  the 
machines  and  the  shrapnel  bursting  all 
around;  but  the  Germans  did  not  crowd 
out  there,  for  their  own  anti-aircraft  guns 
56 


THE  PRISON-CAMP  AT  COURTRAI 

were  hammering  away  to  keep  our  planes 
as  high  in  the  sky  as  possible,  and  shells 
were  likely  to  fall  in  the  prison  yard  any 
moment.  Of  course,  I  watched  these  bat- 
tles at  my  own  risk. 

Many  nights  from  my  prison  window  I 
watched  with  peculiar  interest  the  air 
raids  carried  on,  and  it  was  a  wonderful 
sight  with  the  German  searchlights  play- 
ing on  the  sky,  the  "flaming  onions"  fired 
high  and  the  burst  of  the  anti-aircraft 
guns,  but  rather  an  uncomfortable  sensa- 
tion when  I  realized  that  perhaps  the  very 
next  minute  a  bomb  might  be  dropped  on 
the  building  in  which  I  was  a  prisoner. 
But  perhaps  all  of  this  was  better  than  no 
excitement  at  all,  for  prison  life  soon  be- 
came very  monotonous. 

One  of  the  hardest  things  I  had  to  en- 
dure throughout  the  two  weeks  I  spent 
there  was  the  sight  of  the  Hun  machines 
flying  over  Courtrai,  knowing  that  per- 
haps I  never  would  have  another  chance 
to  fly,  and  I  used  to  sit  by  the  hour  watch- 
ing the  German  machines  maneuvering 
over  the  prison,  as  they  had  an  aerodrome 
not  far  away,  and  every  afternoon  the 
students — I  took  them  for  students  be- 
57 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

cause  their  flying  was  very  poor — appeared 
over  the  town. 

One  certain  Hun  seemed  to  find  par- 
ticular satisfaction  in  flying  right  down 
over  the  prison  nightly,  for  my  special  dis- 
comfort and  benefit  it  seemed,  as  if  he 
knew  an  airman  imprisoned  there  was 
vainly  longing  to  try  his  wings  again  over 
their  lines.  But  I  used  to  console  myself 
by  saying,  "Never  mind,  old  boy;  there 
was  never  a  bird  whose  wings  could  not 
be  clipped  if  they  got  him  just  right,  and 
your  turn  will  come  some  day." 

One  night  there  was  an  exceptionally 
heavy  air  raid  going  on.  A  number  of 
German  officers  came  into  my  room,  and 
they  all  seemed  very  much  frightened.  I 
jokingly  remarked  that  it  would  be  fine 
if  our  airmen  hit  the  old  prison — the  per- 
centage would  be  very  satisfactory — one 
English  officer  and  about  ten  German  ones. 
They  didn't  seem  to  appreciate  the  joke, 
however,  and,  indeed,  they  were  appar- 
ently too  much  alarmed  at  what  was  going 
on  overhead  to  laugh  even  at  their  own 
jokes.  Although  these  night  raids  seemed 
to  take  all  the  starch  out  of  the  Germans 
while  they  were  going  on,  the  officers  were 
58 


THE  PRISON-CAMP  AT  COURTRAI 

usually  as  brave  as  lions  the  next  day  and 
spoke  contemptuously  of  the  raid  of  the 
night  before. 

I  saw  thousands  of  soldiers  in  Courtrai, 
and  although  they  did  not  impress  me  as 
having  very  good  or  abundant  food,  they 
were  fairly  well  clothed.  I  do  not  mean  to 
imply  that  conditions  pointed  to  an  early 
end  of  the  war.  On  the  contrary,  from 
what  I  was  able  to  observe  on  that  point, 
unless  the  Huns  have  an  absolute  crop 
failure,  they  can,  in  my  opinion,  go  on  for 
years!  The  idea  of  our  being  able  to  win 
the  war  by  starving  them  out  strikes  me 
as  ridiculous.  This  is  a  war  that  must  be 
won  by  fighting,  and  the  sooner  we  realize 
that  fact  the  sooner  it  will  be  over. 

Rising-hour  in  the  prison  was  seven 
o'clock.  Breakfast  came  at  eight.  This 
consisted  of  a  cup  of  coffee  and  nothing 
else.  If  the  prisoner  had  the  foresight 
to  save  some  bread  from  the  previous  day, 
he  had  bread  for  breakfast  also,  but  that 
never  happened  in  my  case.  Sometimes 
we  had  two  cups  of  coffee — that  is,  near- 
coffee.  It  was  really  chicory  or  some  cereal 
preparation.  We  had  no  milk  or  sugar. 

For  lunch  they  gave  us  boiled  sugar- 

59 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

beets  or  some  other  vegetable,  and  once  in 
a  while  some  kind  of  pickled  meat,  but 
that  happened  very  seldom.  We  also  re- 
ceived a  third  of  a  loaf  of  bread — war- 
bread.  This  war-bread  was  as  heavy  as  a 
brick,  black,  and  sour.  It  was  supposed 
to  last  us  from  noon  one  day  to  noon  the 
next.  Except  for  some  soup,  this  was  the 
whole  lunch  menu. 

Dinner  came  at  5.30  P.M.,  when  we 
sometimes  had  a  little  jam  made  out  of 
sugar-beets,  and  a  preparation  called  tea 
which  you  had  to  shake  vigorously  or  it 
settled  in  the  bottom  of  the  cup  and  then 
about  all  you  had  was  hot  water.  This 
"tea"  was  a  sad  blow  to  the  Englishmen. 
If  it  hadn't  been  called  tea,  they  wouldn't 
have  felt  so  badly  about  it,  perhaps,  but  it 
was  adding  insult  to  injury  to  call  that 
stuff  "tea"  which,  with  them,  is  almost  a 
national  institution. 

Sometimes  with  this  meal  they  gave  us 
butter  instead  of  jam,  and  once  in  a  while 
we  had  some  kind  of  canned  meat. 

This  comprised  the  usual  run  of  eatables 

for  the  day — I  can  eat  more  than  that  for 

breakfast !     In  the  days  that  were  to  come, 

however,  I  was  to  fare  considerably  worse. 

60 


f 

^riegsgefangenens/nduf) 


Postpruefungsstelle  des  Kricgsgefangen 


To  be  forwarded  immediately  Jo  ENGLAND. 


MAILING-CARD     SENT     BY     GERMAN     GOVERNMENT     TO     PAT     O'BRIEN'S 
SISTER,    MRS.    CLARA   CLEGG   OF   MOMENCE,    ILLINOIS 


Fill  ""'up  this  card  immediately! 

1  am  prisoner  of  war  In  Germany, 


Christian  name  :   1     F\   \    •  f\V-  V  A  • 
Rank  :      L.  \  t  V3  "V 


SounU- 


111.  Improper  to  be  erased 


Au 


\CV\7. 


Do  not  reply  to  Ltmburg,  await  further  Information. 


OBVERSE    SIDE   OF   CARD    SHOWN   ABOVE 


THE   PRISON-CAMP  AT  COURTRAI 

We  were  allowed  to  send  out  and  buy  a 
few  things,  but  as  most  of  the  prisoners 
were  without  funds,  this  was  but  an  empty 
privilege.  Once  I  took  advantage  of  the 
privilege  to  send  my  shoes  to  a  Belgian 
shoemaker  to  be  half -soled.  They  charged 
me  twenty  marks — five  dollars! 

Once  in  a  while  a  Belgian  Ladies'  Relief 
Society  visited  the  prison  and  brought  us 
handkerchiefs,  American  soap — which  sells 
at  about  one  dollar  and  fifty  cents  a  bar  in 
Belgium — tooth-brushes,  and  other  little 
articles,  all  of  which  were  American-made, 
but  whether  they  were  supplied  by  the 
American  Relief  Committee  or  not  I  don't 
know.  At  any  rate,  these  gifts  were 
mighty  useful  and  were  very  much  ap- 
preciated. 

One  day  I  offered  a  button  off  my  uni- 
form to  one  of  these  Belgian  ladies  as  a 
souvenir,  but  a  German  guard  saw  me  and 
I  was  never  allowed  to  go  near  the  visitors 
afterward. 

The  sanitary  conditions  in  this  prison- 
camp  were  excellent  as  a  general  prop- 
osition. One  night,  however,  I  dis- 
covered that  I  had  been  captured  by 
"cooties." 

61 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

This  was  a  novel  experience  to  me  and 
one  that  I  would  have  been  very  willing  to 
have  missed,  because  in  the  Flying  Corps 
our  aerodromes  are  a  number  of  miles  back 
of  the  lines  and  we  have  good  billets,  and 
our  acquaintance  with  such  things  as 
"cooties"  and  other  unwelcome  visitors  is 
very  limited. 

When  I  discovered  my  condition  I  made 
a  holler  and  roused  the  guard,  and  right 
then  I  got  another  example  of  German 
efficiency. 

This  guard  seemed  to  be  even  more  per- 
turbed about  my  complaint  than  I  was 
myself,  evidently  fearing  that  he  would  be 
blamed  for  my  condition. 

The  commandant  was  summoned,  and 
I  could  see  that  he  was  very  angry.  Some 
one  undoubtedly  got  a  severe  reprimand 
for  it. 

I  was  taken  out  of  my  cell  by  a  guard 
with  a  rifle  and  conducted  about  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  from  the  prison  to  an  old  factory 
building  which  had  been  converted  into  an 
elaborate  fumigating  plant.  There  I  was 
given  a  pickle  bath  in  some  kind  of  solu- 
tion, and  while  I  was  absorbing  it  my 

clothes,  bedclothes,  and  whatever  else  had 
62 


THE  PRISON-CAMP  AT  COURTRAI 

been  in  my  cell  were  being  put  through 
another  fumigating  process. 

While  I  was  waiting  for  my  things  to  dry 
— it  took,  perhaps,  half  an  hour — I  had 
a  chance  to  observe  about  one  hundred 
other  victims  of  "cooties" — German  sol- 
diers who  had  become  infested  in  the 
trenches.  We  were  all  nude,  of  course, 
but  apparently  it  was  not  difficult  for 
them  to  recognize  me  as  a  foreigner  even 
without  my  uniform  on,  for  none  of  them 
made  any  attempt  to  talk  to  me,  although 
they  all  were  very  busy  talking  about  me. 
I  could  not  understand  what  they  were 
saying,  but  I  know  I  was  the  butt  of  most 
of  their  jokes,  and  they  made  no  effort 
to  conceal  the  fact  that  I  was  the  subject 
of  their  conversation. 

When  I  got  back  to  my  cell  I  found  that 
it  had  been  thoroughly  fumigated,  and 
from  that  time  on  I  had  no  further  trouble 
with  "cooties"  or  other  visitors  of  the 
same  kind. 

As  we  were  not  allowed  to  write  any- 
thing but  prison  cards,  writing  was  out  of 
the  question;  and  as  we  had  no  reading- 
matter  to  speak  of,  reading  was  nil.  We 
had  nothing  to  do  to  pass  away  the  time,, 
5  63 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

so  consequently  cards  became  our  only  di- 
version, for  we  did,  fortunately,  have  some 
of  those. 

There  wasn't  very  much  money,  as  a  rule, 
in  circulation,  and  I  think  for  once  in  my 
life  I  held  most  of  that,  not  due  to  any 
particular  ability  on  my  part  in  the  game, 
but  I  happened  to  have  several  hundred 
francs  in  my  pockets  when  shot  down. 
But  we  held  a  lottery  there  once  a  day, 
and  I  don't  believe  there  was  ever  another 
lottery  held  that  was  watched  with 
quite  such  intense  interest  as  that.  The 
drawing  was  always  held  the  day  before 
the  prize  was  to  be  awarded,  so  we  always 
knew  the  day  before  who  was  the  lucky 
man.  There  was  as  much  speculation  as 
to  who  would  win  the  prize  as  if  it  had  been 
the  finest  treasure  in  the  world.  The 
great  prize  was  one-third  of  a  loaf  of 
bread. 

Through  some  arrangement  which  I 
never  quite  figured  out,  it  happened  that 
among  the  eight  or  ten  officers  who  were 
there  with  me  there  was  always  one-third 
of  a  loaf  of  bread  over.  There  was  just 
one  way  of  getting  that  bread,  and  that 
was  to  draw  lots.  Consequently  that  was 

64 


THE  PRISON-CAMP  AT  COURTRAI 

what  started  the  lottery.  I  believe  if  a 
man  had  ever  been  inclined  to  cheat  he 
would  have  been  sorely  tempted  in  this 
instance,  but  the  game  was  played  abso- 
lutely square,  and  if  a  man  had  been  caught 
cheating,  the  chances  are  that  he  would 
have  been  shunned  by  the  rest  of  the  of- 
ficers as  long  as  he  was  in  prison.  I  was 
fortunate  enough  to  win  the  prize  twice. 

One  man — I  think  he  was  the  smallest 
eater  in  the  camp — won  it  on  three  suc- 
cessive days,  but  it  was  well  for  him  that 
his  luck  deserted  him  on  the  fourth  day, 
for  he  probably  would  have  been  handled 
rather  roughly  by  the  rest  of  the  crowd, 
who  were  growing  suspicious.  But  we 
handled  the  drawing  ourselves  and  knew 
there  was  nothing  crooked  about  it,  so  he 
was  spared. 

We  were  allowed  to  buy  pears,  and,  being 
small  and  very  hard,  they  were  used  as 
the  stakes  in  many  a  game.  But  the  in- 
terest in  these  little  games  was  as  keen  as 
if  the  stakes  had  been  piles  of  money  in- 
stead of  two  or  three  half-starved  pears. 
No  man  was  ever  so  reckless,  however,  in 
all  the  betting,  as  to  wager  his  own  rations. 

By  the  most  scheming  and  sacrificing  I 
65 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

erer  did  in  my  life  I  managed  to  hoard  two 
pieces  of  bread  (grudgingly  spared  at  the 
time  from  my  daily  rations),  but  I  was 
preparing  for  the  day  when  I  should  es- 
cape— if  I  ever  should.  It  was  not  a  sac- 
rifice easily  made,  either,  but  instead  of 
eating  bread  I  ate  pears  until  I  finally  got 
one  piece  of  bread  ahead;  and  when  I 
could  force  myself  to  stick  to  the  pear  diet 
again  I  saved  the  other  piece  from  that 
day's  allowance,  and  in  days  to  come  I 
had  cause  to  credit  myself  fully  for  the 
foresight. 

Whenever  a  new  prisoner  came  in  and 
his  German  hosts  had  satisfied  themselves 
as  to  his  life  history  and  taken  down  all 
the  details — that  is,  all  he  would  give  them 
— he  was  immediately  surrounded  by  his 
fellow-prisoners,  who  were  eager  for  any 
bit  of  news  or  information  he  could  pos- 
sibly give  them,  and  as  a  rule  he  was  glad 
to  tell  us  because,  if  he  had  been  in  the 
hands  of  the  Huns  for  any  length  of  time, 
he  had  seen  very  few  English  officers. 

The  conditions  of  this  prison  were  bad 

enough  when  a  man  was  in  normally  good 

health,  but  it  was  barbarous  to  subject  a 

wounded  soldier  to  the  hardships  and  dis- 

66 


THE  PRISON-CAMP  AT  COURTRAI 

comforts  of  the  place.  However,  this  was 
the  fate  of  a  poor  private  we  discovered 
there  one  day  in  terrific  pain,  suffering 
from  shrapnel  in  his  stomach  and  back. 
All  of  us  officers  asked  to  have  him  sent  to 
a  hospital,  but  the  doctors  curtly  refused, 
saying  it  was  against  orders.  So  the  poor 
creature  went  on  suffering  from  day  to 
day  and  was  still  there  when  I  left,  an- 
other victim  of  German  cruelty. 

At  one  time  in  this  prison-camp  there 
were  a  French  marine,  a  French  flying  of- 
ficer, and  two  Belgian  soldiers,  and  of  the 
United  Kingdom  one  from  Canada,  two 
from  England,  three  from  Ireland,  a  couple 
from  Scotland,  one  from  Wales,  a  man 
from  South  Africa,  one  from  Algeria,  and 
a  New-Zealander,  the  last  being  from 
my  own  squadron,  a  man  whom  I  thought 
had  been  killed,  and  he  was  equally  sur- 
prised, when  brought  into  the  prison,  to 
find  me  there.  In  addition  there  were  a 
Chinaman  and  myself  from  the  U.  S.  A. 

It  was  quite  a  cosmopolitan  group,  and 
as  one  typical  Irishman  said,  "Sure,  and 
we  have  every  nation  that's  worth  men- 
tioning, including  the  darn  Germans,  with 
us  whites."  Of  course,  this  was  not  trans- 
67 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

lated  to  the  Germans,  nor  was  it  even 
spoken  in  their  hearing,  or  we  probably 
would  not  have  had  quite  so  cosmopolitan 
a  bunch.  Each  man  in  the  prison  was 
ready  to  uphold  his  native  country  in  any 
argument  that  could  possibly  be  started, 
and  it  goes  without  saying  that  I  never 
took  a  back  seat  in  any  of  them  with  my 
praise  for  America,  with  the  Canadian  and 
Chinaman  chiming  in  on  my  side.  But 
they  were  friendly  arguments;  we  were  all 
in  the  same  boat  and  that  was  no  place 
for  quarreling. 

Every  other  morning,  the  weather  al- 
lowing, we  were  taken  to  a  large  swimming- 
pool  and  were  allowed  to  have  a  bath. 
There  were  two  pools,  one  for  the  German 
officers  and  one  for  the  men.  Although 
we  were  officers,  we  had  to  use  the  pool 
occupied  by  the  men.  While  we  were  in 
swimming  a  German  guard  with  a  rifle 
across  his  knees  sat  at  each  corner  of  the 
pool  and  watched  us  closely  as  we  dressed 
and  undressed.  English  interpreters  ac- 
companied us  on  all  of  these  trips,  so  at  no 
time  could  we  talk  without  their  knowing 
what  was  going  on. 

Whenever  we  were  taken  out  of  the 

68 


THE  PRISON-CAMP  AT  COURTRAI 

prison  for  any  purpose  they  always  pa- 
raded us  through  the  most  crowded  streets 
— evidently  to  give  the  populace  an  idea 
that  they  were  getting  lots  of  prisoners. 
The  German  soldiers  we  passed  on  these 
occasions  made  no  effort  to  hide  their 
smiles  and  sneers. 

The  Belgian  people  were  apparently 
very  curious  to  see  us,  and  they  used  to 
turn  out  in  large  numbers  whenever  the 
word  was  passed  that  we  were  out.  At 
times  the  German  guards  would  strike  the 
women  and  children  who  crowded  too 
close  to  us.  One  day  I  smiled  and  spoke 
to  a  pretty  Belgian  girl,  and  when  she  re- 
plied a  German  made  a  run  for  her. 
Luckily  she  stepped  into  the  house  before 
he  reached  her  or  I  am  afraid  my  saluta- 
tion would  have  resulted  seriously  for  her 
and  I  would  have  been  powerless  to  have 
assisted  her. 

Whenever  we  passed  a  Belgian  home  or 
other  building  which  had  been  wrecked  by 
bombs  dropped  by  our  airmen  our  guards 
made  us  stop  a  moment  or  two  while  they 
passed  sneering  remarks  among  them- 
selves. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  souvenirs  I 
69 


OUTWITTING  THE   HUN 

have  of  my  imprisonment  at  Courtrai  is  a 
photograph  of  a  group  of  us  taken  in  the 
prison  courtyard.  The  picture  was  made 
by  one  of  the  guards,  who  sold  copies  of 
it  to  those  of  us  who  were  able  to  pay  his 
price — one  mark  apiece. 

As  we  faced  the  camera,  I  suppose  we 
all  tried  to  look  our  happiest,  but  the  ma- 
jority of  us,  I  am  afraid,  were  too  sick  at 
heart  to  raise  a  smile  even  for  this  occa- 
sion. One  of  our  Hun  guards  is  shown 
in  the  picture  seated  at  the  table.  I  am 
standing  directly  behind  him,  attired  in 
my  flying  tunic,  which  they  allowed  me  to 
wear  all  the  time  I  was  in  prison,  as  is  the 
usual  custom  with  prisoners  of  war.  Three 
of  the  British  officers  shown  in  the  picture, 
in  the  foreground,  are  clad  in  "shorts." 

Through  all  my  subsequent  adventures 
I  was  able  to  retain  a  print  of  this  inter- 
esting picture,  and  although  when  I  gaze 
at  it  now  it  only  serves  to  increase  my 
gratification  at  my  ultimate  escape,  it  fills 
me  with  regret  to  think  that  my  fellow- 
prisoners  were  not  so  fortunate.  All  of 
them,  by  this  time,  are  undoubtedly  eat- 
ing their  hearts  up  in  the  prison-camps  of 
interior  Germany.  Poor  fellows! 
70 


THE  PRISON-CAMP  AT  COURTRAI 

Despite  the  scanty  fare  and  the  restric- 
tions we  were  tinder  in  this  prison,  we  did 
manage  on  one  occasion  to  arrange  a 
regular  banquet.  The  planning  which  was 
necessary  helped  to  pass  the  time. 

At  this  time  there  were  eight  of  us. 
We  decided  that  the  principal  thing  we 
needed  to  make  the  affair  a  success  was 
potatoes,  and  I  conceived  a  plan  to  get 
them.  Every  other  afternoon  they  took 
us  for  a  walk  in  the  country,  and  it  oc- 
curred to  me  that  it  would  be  a  compara- 
tively simple  matter  for  us  to  pretend  to 
be  tired  and  sit  down  when  we  came  to  the 
first  potato-patch. 

It  worked  out  nicely.  When  we  came 
to  the  first  potato-patch  that  afternoon 
we  told  our  guards  that  we  wanted  to  rest 
a  bit  and  we  were  allowed  to  sit  down. 
In  the  course  of  the  next  five  minutes  each 
of  us  managed  to  get  a  potato  or  two. 
Being  Irish,  I  got  six. 

When  we  got  back  to  the  prison  I  man- 
aged to  steal  a  handkerchief  full  of  sugar 
which,  with  some  apples  that  we  were  al- 
lowed to  purchase,  we  easily  converted 
into  a  sort  of  jam. 

We  now  had  potatoes  and  jam,  but  no 
71 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

bread.  It  happened  that  the  Hun  who 
had  charge  of  the  potatoes  was  a  great 
musician.  It  was  not  very  difficult  to 
prevail  upon  him  to  play  us  some  music, 
and  while  he  went  out  to  get  his  zither  I 
went  into  the  bread  pantry  and  stole  a  loaf 
of  bread. 

Most  of  us  had  saved  some  butter  from 
the  day  before  and  we  used  it  to  fry  our 
potatoes.  By  bribing  one  of  the  guards 
he  bought  some  eggs  for  us.  They  cost 
twenty-five  cents  apiece,  but  we  were  de- 
termined to  make  this  banquet  a  success, 
no  matter  what  it  cost. 

The  cooking  was  done  by  the  prison 
cook,  whom,  of  course,  we  had  to  bribe. 

When  the  meal  was  ready  to  serve  it 
consisted  of  scrambled  eggs,  fried  pota- 
toes, bread  and  jam,  and  a  pitcher  of  beer 
which  we  were  allowed  to  buy. 

That  was  the  29th  of  August.  Had  I 
known  that  it  was  to  be  the  last  real  meal 
that  I  was  to  eat  for  many  weeks  I  might 
have  enjoyed  it  even  more  than  I  did,  but 
it  was  certainly  very  good. 

We  had  cooked  enough  for  eight,  but 
while  we  were  still  eating  another  joined 
us.  He  was  an  English  officer  who  had 
72 


THE  PRISON-CAMP  AT  COURTRAI 

just  been  brought  in  on  a  stretcher.  For 
seven  days,  he  told  us,  he  had  lain  in  a 
shell-hole,  wounded,  and  he  was  almost 
famished,  and  we  were  mighty  glad  to 
share  our  banquet  with  him. 

We  called  on  each  man  for  a  speech, 
and  one  might  have  thought  that  we  were 
at  a  first-class  club  meeting.  A  few  days 
after  that  our  party  was  broken  up  and 
some  of  the  men  I  suppose  I  shall  never 
see  again. 

One  of  the  souvenirs  of  my  adventure  is 
a  check  given  me  during  this  "banquet" 
by  Lieut.  James  Henry  Dickson,  of  the 
Tenth  Royal  Irish  Fusileers,  a  fellow- 
prisoner.  It  was  for  twenty  francs  and 
was  made  payable  to  the  order  of  "Mr. 
Pat  O'Brien,  2nd  Lieut."  Poor  Jim  for- 
got to  scratch  out  the  "London"  and  sub- 
stitute "Courtrai"  on  the  date  line,  but 
its  value  as  a  souvenir  is  just  as  great. 
When  he  gave  it  to  me  he  had  no  idea 
that  I  would  have  an  opportunity  so  soon 
afterward  to  cash  it  in  person,  although 
I  am  quite  sure  that  whatever  financial 
reverses  I  may  be  destined  to  meet  my 
want  will  never  be  great  enough  to  induce 
me  to  realize  on  that  check. 
73 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

There  was  one  subject  that  was  talked 
about  in  this  prison  whenever  conversa- 
tion lagged,  and  I  suppose  it  is  the  same 
in  the  other  prisons,  too.  What  were  the 
chances  of  escape? 

Every  man  seemed  to  have  a  different 
idea  and  one  way  I  suppose  was  about  as 
impracticable  as  another.  None  of  us 
ever  expected  to  get  a  chance  to  put  our 
ideas  into  execution,  but  it  was  interesting 
speculation,  and,  anyway,  one  could  never 
tell  what  opportunities  might  present 
themselves. 

One  suggestion  was  that  we  disguise 
ourselves  as  women.  ' '  O'Brien  would  stand 
a  better  chance  disguised  as  a  horse!"  de- 
clared another,  referring  to  the  fact  that 
my  height  (I  am  six  feet  two  inches) 
would  make  me  more  conspicuous  as  a 
woman  than  as  a  man. 

Another  suggested  that  we  steal  a  Ger- 
man Gotha — a  type  of  aeroplane  used  for 
long-distance  bombing.  It  is  these  ma- 
chines which  are  used  for  bombing  Lon- 
don. They  are  manned  by  three  men,  one 
sitting  in  front  with  a  machine-gun,  the 
pilot  sitting  behind  him,  and  an  observer 
sitting  in  the  rear  with  another  machine- 
74 


THE  PRISON-CAMP  AT  COURTRAI 

gun.  We  figured  that  at  a  pinch  perhaps 
seven  or  eight  of  us  could  make  our  escape 
in  a  single  machine.  They  have  two  mo- 
tors of  very  high  horse-power,  fly  very 
high  and  make  wonderful  speed.  But 
we  had  no  chance  to  put  this  idea  to  the 
test. 

I  worked  out  another  plan  by  which  I 
thought  I  might  have  a  chance  if  I  could 
ever  get  into  one  of  the  German  aero- 
dromes. I  would  conceal  myself  in  one  of 
the  hangars,  wait  until  one  of  the  German 
machines  started  out,  and  as  he  taxied 
along  the  ground  I  would  rush  out,  shout 
at  the  top  of  my  voice,  and  point  excitedly 
at  his  wheels.  This,  I  figured,  would 
cause  the  pilot  to  stop  and  get  out  to  see 
what  was  wrong.  By  that  time  I  would 
be  up  to  him  and  as  he  stooped  over  to 
inspect  the  machine  I  could  knock  him 
senseless,  jump  into  the  machine,  and  be 
over  the  lines  before  the  Huns  could  make 
up  their  minds  just  what  had  happened. 

It  was  a  fine  dream,  but  my  chance  was 
not  to  come  that  way. 

There  were  dozens  of  other  ways  which 
we  considered.     One  man  would  be  for 
endeavoring  to  make  his  way  right  through 
75 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

the  lines.  Another  thought  the  safest 
plan  would  be  to  swim  some  river  that 
crossed  the  lines. 

The  idea  of  making  one's  way  to  Hol- 
land, a  neutral  country,  occurred  to  every 
one,  but  the  one  great  obstacle  in  that  di- 
rection, we  all  realized,  was  the  great  bar- 
rier of  barbed  and  electrically  charged  wire 
which  guards  every  foot  of  the  frontier 
between  Belgium  and  Holland  and  which 
is  closely  watched  by  the  German  sentries. 

This  barrier  was  a  threefold  affair.  It 
consisted  first  of  a  barbed-wire  wall  six 
feet  high.  Six  feet  beyond  that  was  a 
nine-foot  wall  of  wire  powerfully  charged 
with  electricity.  To  touch  it  meant  elec- 
trocution. Beyond  that,  at  a  distance  of 
six  feet  was  another  wall  of  barbed  wire 
six  feet  high. 

Beyond  the  barrier  lay  Holland  and 
liberty,  but  how  to  get  there  was  a  prob- 
lem which  none  of  us  could  solve  and  few 
of  us  ever  expected  to  have  a  chance  to 
try. 

Mine  came  sooner  than  I  expected. 


VI 

A  LEAP  FOR  LIBERTY 

I  HAD  been  in  prison  at  Courtrai  nearly 
three  weeks  when,  on  the  morning  of 
September  9th,  I  and  six  other  officers 
were  told  that  we  were  to  be  transferred 
to  a  prison-camp  in  Germany. 

One  of  the  guards  told  me  during  the 
day  that  we  were  destined  for  a  reprisal 
camp  in  Strassburg.  They  were  sending 
us  there  to  keep  our  airmen  from  bombing 
the  place. 

He  explained  that  the  English  carried 
German  officers  on  hospital-ships  for  a 
similar  purpose,  and  he  excused  the  Ger- 
man practice  of  torpedoing  these  vessels 
on  the  score  that  they  also  carried  muni- 
tions! When  I  pointed  out  to  him  that 
France  would  hardly  be  sending  muni- 
tions to  England,  he  lost  interest  in  the 
argument. 

77 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

Some  days  before  I  had  made  up  my 
mind  that  it  would  be  a  very  good  thing 
to  get  hold  of  a  map  of  Germany  which  I 
knew  was  in  the  possession  of  one  of  the 
German  interpreters,  because  I  realized 
that  if  ever  the  opportunity  came  to  make 
my  escape  such  a  map  might  be  of  the 
greatest  assistance  to  me. 

With  the  idea  of  stealing  this  map,  ac- 
cordingly, a  lieutenant  and  I  got  in  front 
of  this  interpreter's  window  one  day  and 
engaged  in  a  very  hot  argument  as  to 
whether  Heidelberg  was  on  the  Rhine  or 
not,  and  we  argued  back  and  forth  so 
vigorously  that  the  German  came  out  of 
his  room,  map  in  hand,  to  settle  it.  After 
the  matter  was  entirely  settled  to  our  satis- 
faction he  went  back  into  his  room  and  I 
watched  where  he  put  the  map. 

When,  therefore,  I  learned  that  I  was 
on  my  way  to  Germany  I  realized  that  it 
was  more  important  than  ever  for  me  to 
get  that  map,  and,  with  the  help  of  my 
friend,  we  got  the  interpreter  out  of  his 
room  on  some  pretext  or  another,  and 
while  he  was  gone  I  confiscated  the  map 
from  the  book  in  which  he  kept  it  and 
concealed  it  in  my  sock  underneath  my 
78 


legging.  As  I  had  anticipated,  it  later 
proved  of  the  utmost  value  to  me. 

I  got  it  none  too  soon,  for  half  an  hour 
later  we  were  on  our  way  to  Ghent.  Our 
party  consisted  of  five  British  officers  and 
one  French  officer .  At  Ghent,  where  we 
had  to  wait  for  several  hours  for  another 
train  to  take  us  direct  to  the  prison  in 
Germany,  two  other  prisoners  were  added 
to  our  party. 

In  the  interval  we  were  locked  in  a  room 
at  a  hotel,  a  guard  sitting  at  the  door  with 
a  rifle  on  his  knee.  It  would  have  done 
my  heart  good  for  the  rest  of  my  life  if  I 
could  have  got  away  then  and  fooled  that 
Hun,  he  was  so  cocksure. 

Later  we  were  marched  to  the  train  that 
was  to  convey  us  to  Germany.  It  con- 
sisted of  some  twelve  coaches,  eleven  of 
them  containing  troops  going  home  on 
leave,  and  the  twelfth  reserved  for  us. 
We  were  placed  in  a  fourth-class  com- 
partment, with  old,  hard,  wooden  seats, 
a  filthy  floor,  and  no  lights  save  a  can- 
dle placed  there  by  a  guard.  There 
were  eight  of  us  prisoners  and  four 
guards. 

As  we  sat  in  tne  coach  we  were  an  object 

6  79 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

of  curiosity  to  the  crowd  who  gathered  at 
the  station. 

"Hope  you  have  a  nice  trip!"  one  of 
them  snouted,  sarcastically. 

"Drop  me  a  line  when  you  get  to  Berlin, 
will  you?"  shouted  another  in  broken 
English. 

"When  shall  we  see  you  again?"  asked 
a  third. 

"Remember  me  to  your  friends,  will 
you?  You'll  find  plenty  where  you're 
going!"  shouted  another. 

The  German  officers  made  no  effort  to 
repress  the  crowd;  in  fact,  they  joined  in 
the  general  laughter  which  followed  every 
sally. 

I  called  to  a  German  officer  who  was 
passing  our  window. 

"You're  an  officer,  aren't  you?"  I  asked, 
respectfully  enough. 

"Yes.    What  of  it?"  he  rejoined. 

"Well,  in  England,"  I  said,  "we  let  your 
officers  who  are  prisoners  ride  first-class. 
Can't  you  fix  it  so  that  we  can  be  similarly 
treated,  or  be  transferred  at  least  to  a 
second-class  compartment?" 

"If  I  had  my  way,"  he  replied,  "you'd 

ride  with  the  hogs!" 

80 


A   LEAP    FOR   LIBERTY 

Then  he  turned  to  the  crowd  and  told 
them  of  my  request  and  how  he  bad 
answered  me,  and  they  all  laughed  hi- 
lariously. 

This  got  me  pretty  hot. 

"That  would  be  a  damned  sight  better 
than  riding  with  the  Germans!"  I  yelled 
after  him,  but  if  he  considered  that  a  good 
joke,  too,  he  didn't  pass  it  on  to  the  crowd. 

Some  months  later  when  I  had  the  honor 
of  telling  my  story  to  King  George  he 
thought  this  incident  was  one  of  the  best 
jokes  he  had  ever  heard.  I  don't  believe 
he  ever  laughed  harder  in  his  life. 

Before  our  train  pulled  out  our  guards 
had  to  present  their  arms  for  inspection, 
and  their  rifles  were  loaded  in  our  presence 
to  let  us  know  that  they  meant  business. 

From  the  moment  the  train  started  on 
its  way  to  Germany  the  thought  kept 
coming  to  my  head  that  unless  I  could 
make  my  escape  before  we  reached  that 
reprisal  camp  I  might  as  well  make  up  my 
mind  that,  as  far  as  I  was  concerned,  the 
war  was  over. 

It  occurred  to  me  that  if  the  eight  of  us 
in  that  car  could  jump  up  at  a  given  signal 
and  seize  those  four  Hun  guards  by  sur- 
81 


OUTWITTING  THE   HUN 

prise,  we'd  have  a  splendid  chance  of  best- 
ing them  and  jumping  off  the  train  when  it 
first  slowed  down,  but  when  I  passed  the 
idea  on  to  my  comrades  they  turned  it 
down.  Even  if  the  plan  had  worked  out 
as  gloriously  as  I  had  pictured,  they 
pointed  out,  the  fact  that  so  many  of  us 
had  escaped  would  almost  inevitably  re- 
sult in  our  recapture.  The  Huns  would 
have  scoured  Belgium  till  they  had  got  us 
and  then  we  would  all  be  shot.  Perhaps 
they  were  right. 

Nevertheless,  I  was  determined  that,  no 
matter  what  the  others  decided  to  do,  I 
was  going  to  make  one  bid  for  freedom, 
come  what  might. 

As  we  passed  through  village  after  vil- 
lage in  Belgium  and  I  realized  that  we  were 
getting  nearer  and  nearer  to  that  dreaded 
reprisal  camp,  I  concluded  that  my  one 
and  only  chance  of  getting  free  before  we 
reached  it  was  through  the  window!  I 
would  have  to  go  through  that  window 
while  the  train  was  going  full  speed,  be- 
cause if  I  waited  until  it  had  slowed  up  or 
stopped  entirely,  it  would  be  a  simple  mat- 
ter for  the  guards  to  overtake  or  shoot  me. 

I  opened  the  window.  The  guard  who 
82 


A   LEAP    FOR   LIBERTY 

sat  opposite  me — so  close  that  his  feet 
touched  mine  and  the  stock  of  his  gun 
which  he  held  between  his  knees  occasion- 
ally struck  my  foot — made  no  objection, 
imagining,  no  doubt,  that  I  found  the  car 
too  warm  or  that  the  smoke,  with  which 
the  compartment  was  filled,  annoyed  me. 

As  I  opened  the  window  the  noise  the 
train  was  making  as  it  thundered  along 
grew  louder.  It  seemed  to  say:  "You're 
a  fool  if  you  do;  you're  a  fool  if  you 
don't!  You're  a  fool  if  you  do;  you're  a 
fool  if  you  don't!"  And  I  said  to  myself, 
"The  'no's'  have  it,"  and  closed  down  the 
window  again. 

As  soon  as  the  window  was  closed  the 
noise  of  the  train  naturally  subsided  and 
its  speed  seemed  to  diminish,  and  my  plan 
appealed  to  me  stronger  than  ever. 

I  knew  the  guard  in  front  of  me  didn't 
understand  a  word  of  English,  and  so,  in 
a  quiet  tone  of  voice,  I  confided  to  the 
English  officer  who  sat  next  me  what  I 
planned  to  do. 

"For  God's  sake,  Pat,  chuck  it!"  he 
urged.     "Don't  be  a  lunatic!    This  rail- 
road is  double-tracked  and  rock-ballasted 
and  the  other  track  is  on  your  side.    You 
83 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

stand  every  chance  in  the  world  of  knock- 
ing your  brains  out  against  the  rails,  or 
hitting  a  bridge  or  a  whistling  post,  and, 
if  you  escape  those,  you  will  probably  be 
hit  by  another  train  on  the  other  track. 
You  haven't  one  chance  in  a  thousand  to 
make  it!" 

There  was  a  good  deal  of  logic  in  what  he 
said,  but  I  figured  that,  once  I  was  in  that 
reprisal  camp,  I  might  never  have  even 
one  chance  in  a  thousand  to  escape,  and 
the  idea  of  remaining  a  prisoner  of  war 
indefinitely  went  against  my  grain.  I  re- 
solved to  take  my  chance  now  even  at  the 
risk  of  breaking  my  neck. 

The  car  was  full  of  smoke.  I  looked 
across  at  the  guard.  He  was  rather  an 
old  man,  going  home  on  leave,  and  he 
seemed  to  be  dreaming  of  what  was  in  store 
for  him  rather  than  paying  any  particular 
attention  to  me.  Once  in  a  while  I  had 
smiled  at  him  and  I  figured  that  he  hadn't 
the  slightest  idea  of  what  was  going 
through  my  mind  all  the  time  we  had  been 
traveling. 

I  began  to  cough  as  though  my  throat 
were  badly  irritated  by  the  smoke,  and 
then  I  opened  the  window  again.  This 
84 


A   LEAP    FOR   LIBERTY 

time  the  guard  looked  up  and  showed  his 
disapproval,  but  did  not  say  anything. 

It  was  then  four  o'clock  in  the  morning 
and  would  soon  be  light.  I  knew  I  had  to 
do  it  right  then  or  never,  as  there  would 
be  no  chance  to  escape  in  the  daytime. 

I  had  on  a  trench  coat  that  I  had  used 
as  a  flying-coat  and  wore  a  knapsack 
which  I  had  constructed  out  of  a  gas-bag 
brought  into  Courtrai  by  a  British  prisoner. 
In  this  I  had  two  pieces  of  bread,  a  piece 
of  sausage,  and  a  pair  of  flying-mittens. 
All  of  them  had  to  go  with  me  through  the 
window. 

The  train  was  now  going  at  a  rate  of 
between  thirty  and  thirty-five  miles  an 
hour,  and  again  it  seemed  to  admonish  me, 
as  it  rattled  along  over  the  ties:  "You're 
a  fool  if  you  do ;  you're  a  fool  if  you  don't ! 
You're  a  fool  if  you  don't;  you're  a  fool 
if  you  do!  You're  a  fool  if  you  don't — " 

I  waited  no  longer.  Standing  up  on 
the  bench  as  if  to  put  the  bag  on  the  rack, 
and  taking  hold  of  the  rack  with  my  left 
hand  and  a  strap  that  hung  from  the  top 
of  the  car  with  my  right,  I  pulled  myself 
up,  shoved  my  feet  and  legs  out  of  the 
window,  and  let  go! 
«5 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

There  was  a  prayer  on  my  lips  as  I  went 
out  and  I  expected  a  bullet  between  my 
shoulders,  but  it  was  all  over  in  an  instant. 

I  landed  on  my  k_t  side  and  face,  bury- 
ing my  face  in  the  rock  ballast,  cutting  it 
open  and  closing  my  left  eye,  skinning  my 
hands  and  shins  and  straining  my  ankle. 
For  a  few  moments  I  was  completely 
knocked  out,  and  if  they  shot  at  me  through 
the  window,  in  the  first  moments  after  my 
escape,  I  had  no  way  of  knowing. 

Of  course,  if  they  could  have  stopped 
the  train  right  then,  they  could  easily  have 
recaptured  me,  but  at  the  speed  it  was 
going  and  in  the  confusion  which  must 
have  followed  my  escape,  they  probably 
didn't  stop  within  half  a  mile  from  the  spot 
where  I  lay. 

I  came  to  within  a  few  minutes,  and 
when  I  examined  myself  and  found  no 
bones  broken  I  didn't  stop  to  worry  about 
my  cuts  and  bruises,  but  jumped  up  with 
ihe  idea  of  putting  as  great  a  distance 
between  me  and  that  track  as  possible 
before  daylight  came.  Still  being  dazed, 
I  forgot  all  about  the  barbed-wire  fence 
along  the  right-of-way  and  ran  full  tilt  into 
it.  Right  there  I  lost  one  of  my  two 
86 


A   LEAP    FOR   LIBERTY 

precious  pieces  of  bread,  which  fell  out  of 
my  knapsack,  but  I  could  not  stop  to  look 
for  it  then. 

The  one  thing  that  was  uppermost  in 
my  mind  was  that  for  the  moment  I  was 
free  and  it  was  up  to  me  now  to  make  the 
most  of  my  liberty. 


VII 

CRAWLING  THROUGH  GERMANY 

THE  exact  spot  at  which  I  made  my 
desperate  leap  I  don't  know.  Per- 
haps, after  the  war  is  over,  some  one  on 
that  train  will  be  good  enough  to  tell  me, 
and  then  I  may  go  back  and  look  for  the 
dent  I  must  have  made  in  the  rock  ballast. 

As  I  have  said,  I  didn't  stop  very  long 
that  morning  after  I  once  regained  my 
senses. 

I  was  bleeding  profusely  from  the 
wounds  caused  by  the  fall,  but  I  checked 
it  somewhat  with  handkerchiefs  I  held  to 
my  face  and  I  also  held  the  tail  of  my 
coat  so  as  to  catch  the  blood  as  it  fell  and 
not  leave  telltale  traces  on  the  ground. 

Before  I  stopped  I  had  gone  about  a 
mile.  Then  I  took  my  course  from  the 
stars  and  found  that  I  had  been  going  just 

opposite  to  the  direction  I  should  be  mak- 
88 


CRAWLING  THROUGH  GERMANY 

ing,  but  I  could  not  go  back  across  the 
track  there. 

Heading  west,  therefore,  I  kept  this 
course  for  about  two  and  a  half  hours,  but 
as  I  was  very  weak  from  loss  of  blood  I 
didn't  cover  very  much  ground  in  that 
time.  Just  before  daylight  I  came  to  a 
canal  which  I  knew  I  had  to  cross,  and  I 
swam  it  with  everything  I  had  on. 

This  swim,  which  proved  to  be  the  first 
of  a  series  that  I  was  destined  to  make, 
taught  me  several  things. 

In  the  first  place,  I  had  forgotten  to 
remove  my  wrist-watch.  This  watch  had 
been  broken  in  my  fall  from  the  air,  but 
I  had  had  it  repaired  at  Courtrai.  In  the 
leap  from  the  train  the  crystal  had  been 
broken  again,  but  it  was  still  going  and 
would  probably  have  been  of  great  service 
to  me  in  my  subsequent  adventures,  but 
the  swim  across  the  canal  ruined  it. 

Then,  too,  I  had  not  thought  to  take  my 
map  out  of  my  sock,  and  the  water  dam- 
aged that,  too. 

Thereafter,  whenever  I  had  any  swim- 
ming to  do,  I  was  careful  to  take  such 
matters  into  consideration,  and  my  usual 
practice  was  to  make  a  bundle  of  all  the 
89 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

things  that  would  be  damaged  by  water 
and  tie  it  to  my  head.  In  this  way  I  was 
able  to  keep  them  dry. 

It  was  now  daylight  and  I  knew  that  it 
would  be  suicidal  for  me  to  attempt  to 
travel  in  the  daytime.  My  British  uni- 
form would  have  been  fatal  to  me.  I  de- 
cided to  hide  in  the  daytime  and  travel 
only  at  night. 

Not  far  from  the  canal  I  could  see  a 
heavily  wooded  piece  of  ground,  and  I 
made  my  way  there.  By  this  time  I  had 
discovered  that  my  left  ankle  had  been 
strained  in  my  leap  from  the  train,  and 
when  I  got  to  the  woods  I  was  glad  to  lie 
down  and  rest.  The  wound  in  my  mouth 
had  been  opened,  too,  when  I  jumped,  and 
it  would  have  been  difficult  for  me  to  have 
swallowed  had  not  the  piece  of  bread, 
which  was  to  serve  for  my  breakfast,  got 
wet  when  I  swam  the  canal.  I  found  a 
safe  hiding-place  in  which  to  spend  the 
day  and  I  tried  to  dry  some  of  my  clothes, 
but  a  slight  drizzling  rainfall  made  that 
out  of  the  question.  I  knew  that  I  ought 
to  sleep,  as  I  planned  to  travel  at  night, 
but,  sore  as  I  was,  caked  with  mud  and 
blood,  my  clothing  soaked  through,  and 
90 


CRAWLING  THROUGH  GERMANY 

my  hunger  not  nearly  appeased,  sleep  was 
out  of  the  question.  This  seemed  to  me 
about  the  longest  day  I  had  ever  spent, 
but  I  was  still  to  learn  how  long  a 
day  can  really  be  and  how  much  longer 
a  night! 

When  night  came  I  dragged  myself  to- 
gether and  headed  northeast. 

My  clothing  consisted  of  my  Flying 
Corps  uniform,  two  shirts,  no  underwear, 
leather  leggings,  heavy  shoes,  a  good  pair 
of  wool  socks,  and  a  German  cap.  I  had 
a  wallet  containing  several  hundred  francs 
in  paper  money  and  various  other  papers. 
I  also  had  a  jack-knife  which  I  had  stolen 
one  day  from  the  property-room  at  Cour- 
trai  where  all  the  personal  effects  taken 
from  prisoners  were  kept.  For  a  day  or 
two  I  carried  the  knapsack,  but  as  I  had 
nothing  to  carry  in  it  I  discarded  it. 

I  traveled  rapidly,  considering  my  dif- 
ficulties, and  swam  a  couple  of  canals  that 
night,  covering  in  all  perhaps  ten  miles 
before  daylight.  Then  I  located  in  some 
low  bushes,  lying  there  all  day  in  my  wet 
clothes  and  finishing  my  sausage  for  food. 
That  was  the  last  of  my  rations. 

That  night  I  made  perhaps  the  same  dis- 
91 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

tance,  but  became  very  hungry  and  thirsty 
before  the  night  was  over. 

For  the  next  six  days  I  still  figured  that 
I  was  in  Germany,  and  I  was  living  on 
nothing  but  cabbage,  sugar-beets,  and  an 
occasional  carrot,  always  in  the  raw  state, 
just  as  I  got  them  out  of  the  fields.  The 
water  I  drank  was  often  very  rank,  as  I 
had  to  get  it  from  canals  and  pools.  One 
night  I  lay  in  a  cabbage-patch  for  an  hour 
lapping  the  dew  from  the  leaves  with  my 
tongue ! 

During  this  period  I  realized  that  I  must 
avoid  meeting  any  one  at  all  hazards.  I 
was  in  the  enemy's  country  and  my  uni- 
form would  have  been  a  dead  give-away. 
Any  one  who  captured  me  or  who  gave 
information  from  which  my  capture  re- 
sulted might  have  been  sure  of  a  hand- 
some reward.  I  knew  that  it  was  neces- 
sary for  me  to  make  progress  as  fast  as 
possible,  but  the  main  consideration  was 
to  keep  out  of  sight,  even  if  it  took  me  a 
year  to  get  to  Holland,  which  was  my 
objective.  From  my  map,  I  estimated 
that  I  was  about  thirty-five  miles  from 
Strassburg  when  I  made  my  leap  from  the 

train,  and  if  I  could  travel  in  a  straight 
92 


CRAWLING  THROUGH  GERMANY 

line  I  had  perhaps  one  hundred  and  fifty 
miles  to  travel.  As  it  was,  however,  I 
was  compelled  to  make  many  detours,  and 
I  figured  that  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles 
was  nearer  the  extent  of  the  journey  ahead 
of  me. 

In  several  parts  of  this  country  I  had  to 
travel  through  forests  of  young  pine-trees 
about  twelve  feet  high.  They  were  very 
close  together  and  looked  almost  as  if  they 
had  been  set  out.  They  proved  to  be  a 
serious  obstacle  to  me,  because  I  could  not 
see  the  stars  through  them,  and  I  was  re- 
lying upon  the  heavens  to  guide  me  to 
freedom.  I  am  not  much  of  an  astron- 
omer, but  I  know  the  Pole  Star  when  I 
see  it.  But  for  it  I  wouldn't  be  here 
to-day! 

I  believe  it  rained  every  night  and  day 
while  I  was  making  my  way  through  Ger- 
many to  Luxembourg. 

My  invariable  program  at  this  stage  of 
my  journey  was  to  travel  steadily  all  night 
until  about  six  in  the  morning,  when  I 
would  commence  looking  around  for  a 
place  wherein  to  hide  during  the  day. 
Low  bushes  or  woods  back  from  the  road, 
as  far  as  possible  from  the  traveled  path- 

93 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

way,  usually  served  me  for  this  purpose. 
Having  found  such  a  spot,  I  would  drop 
down  and  try  to  sleep.  My  overcoat  was 
my  only  covering,  and  that  was  usually 
soaked  through  either  from  the  rain  or 
from  swimming. 

The  only  sleep  I  got  during  those  days 
was  from  exhaustion,  and  it  usually  came 
to  me  toward  dusk  when  it  was  time  for  me 
to  start  again. 

It  was  a  mighty  fortunate  thing  for  me 
that  I  was  not  a  smoker.  Somehow  I 
have  never  used  tobacco  in  any  form  and 
I  was  now  fully  repaid  for  whatever  pleas- 
ure I  had  foregone  in  the  past  as  a  result 
of  my  habits  in  that  particular,  because 
my  sufferings  would  certainly  have  been 
intensified  now  if  in  addition  to  lack  of 
food  and  rest  I  had  had  to  endure  a  crav- 
ing for  tobacco. 

About  the  sixth  night  I  was  so  drowsy 
and  exhausted  when  the  time  came  for  me 
to  be  on  the  move  that  I  was  very  much 
tempted  to  sleep  through  the  night.  I 
knew,  however,  that  that  would  be  a 
bad  precedent  to  establish  and  I  wouldn't 
give  in. 

I    plugged    wearily    along    and    about 

94 


CRAWLING  THROUGH  GERMANY 

eleven  o'clock,  after  I  had  covered  perhaps 
four  miles,  I  sat  down  to  rest  for  a  moment 
on  a  shock  of  brush  which  was  sheltered 
from  the  drizzle  somewhat  by  other  shocks 
which  were  stacked  there.  It  was  day- 
light when  I  awoke,  and  I  found  myself 
right  in  a  German's  backyard.  You  can 
imagine  that  I  lost  no  time  getting  out  of 
that  neighborhood,  and  I  made  up  my  mind 
right  then  that  I  would  never  give  way 
to  that  "tired  feeling"  again. 

In  the  daytime,  in  my  hiding-place, 
wherever  it  happened  to  be,  I  had  plenty 
of  opportunity  to  study  my  map,  and  be- 
fore very  long  I  knew  it  almost  by  heart. 
Unfortunately,  however,  it  did  not  show 
all  the  rivers  and  canals  which  I  encoun- 
tered, and  sometimes  it  fooled  me  com- 
pletely. 

It  must  have  been  about  the  ninth  night 
that  I  crossed  into  Luxembourg,  but  whMe 
this  principality  is  officially  neutral,  it  of- 
fered me  no  safer  a  haven  than  Belgium 
would.  The  Huns  have  violated  the  neu- 
trality of  both  and  discovery  would  have 
been  followed  by  the  same  consequences 
as  capture  in  Germany  proper. 

In  the  nine  days  I  had  covered  perhaps 
7  95 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

seventy-five  miles  and  I  was  that  much 
nearer  liberty,  but  the  lack  of  proper  food, 
the  constant  wearing  of  wet  clothes,  and 
the  loss  of  sleep  and  rest  had  reduced  me 
to  a  very  much  weakened  condition.  1 
doubted  very  much  whether  I  would  be 
-able  to  continue,  but  I  plugged  along. 


VIII 

NINE   DAYS  IN  LUXEMBOURG 

I  WAS  now  heading  northwest  and  I 
thought  that  by  keeping  that  course  I 
would  get  out  of  Luxembourg  and  into 
Belgium,  where  I  expected  to  be  a  little 
better  off,  because  the  people  in  Luxem- 
bourg were  practically  the  same  as 
Germans. 

One  of  the  experiences  I  had  in  Luxem- 
bourg which  I  shall  never  forget  occurred 
the  first  day  that  I  spent  there.  I  had 
traveled  all  night  and  I  was  feeling  very- 
weak.  I  came  to  a  small  wood  with  plenty 
of  low  underbrush,  and  I  picked  out  a 
thick  clump  of  bushes  which  was  not  in  line 
with  any  paths,  crawled  in,  and  lay  down 
to  spend  the  day. 

The  sun  could  just  reach  me  through  an 
opening  in  the  trees  above,  and  I  took  off 
all  my  clothes  except  my  shirt  and  hung 

97 


OUTWITTING  THE   HUN 

them  on  the  bushes  to  dry  in  the  sun.  As 
the  sun  moved  I  moved  the  clothes  around 
correspondingly,  because,  tired  as  I  was,  I 
could  take  only  cat-naps. 

That  afternoon  I  awoke  from  one  of 
these  naps  with  a  start.  There  were 
voices  not  a  dozen  feet  from  me!  My  first 
impulse  was  to  jump  to  my  feet  and  sell 
my  life  as  dearly  as  I  could,  but  on  second 
thoughts  I  decided  to  look  before  I 
leaped.  Peeping  through  the  underbrush, 
I  could  just  discern  two  men  calmly  chop- 
ping down  a  tree  and  conversing  as  they 
worked.  I  thanked  my  lucky  stars  that 
I  had  not  jumped  up  on  my  first  impulse, 
for  I  was  apparently  quite  safe  as  long  as 
I  lay  where  I  was. 

It  then  occurred  to  me  that  if  the  tree 
upon  which  they  were  working  should  hap- 
pen to  fall  in  my  direction  it  would  crush 
me  to  death!  It  was  tall  enough  to  reach 
me  and  big  enough  to  kill  me  if  it  landed  in 
my  direction,  and  as  I  could  see  only  the 
heads  of  the  men  who  were  chopping  it 
down,  I  was  unable  to  tell  which  way  they 
planned  to  have  it  fall. 

There  was  this  much  in  my  favor:  the 

chances  of  the  tree  falling  in  just  my  di- 
98 


NINE   DAYS   IN  LUXEMBOURG 

rection  were  not  very  great  and  there  was 
more  than  an  even  chance  that  the  men 
would  be  wise  enough  to  fell  it  so  that  it 
would  not,  because  if  it  landed  in  the 
bushes  the  task  of  trimming  the  branches 
off  the  trunk  would  be  so  much  harder. 

But,  even  without  this  feeling  of  se- 
curity, there  was  really  nothing  else  I  could 
do  but  wait  and  see  what  fate  had  in  store 
for  me.  I  lay  there  watching  the  top  of 
the  tree  for  more  than  an  hour.  Time  and 
again  I  saw  it  sway  and  fancied  it  was 
coming  in  my  direction,  and  it  was  all  I 
could  do  to  keep  my  place,  but  a  moment 
later  I  would  hear  the  crash  of  the  men's 
axes  and  I  knew  that  my  imagination  had 
played  me  a  trick. 

I  was  musing  on  the  sorry  plight  I  was  in 
— weak,  nearly  starving  to  death,  a  refugee 
in  a  hostile  country  and  waiting  patiently 
to  see  which  way  a  tree  was  going  to  fall — 
when  there  came  a  loud  crack  and  I  saw  the 
top  of  the  tree  sway  and  fall  almost  oppo- 
site to  the  place  where  I  lay!  I  had 
guessed  right. 

Later  I  heard  some  children's  voices,  and 
again  peering  through  the  underbrush,  I 
saw  that  they  had  brought  the  men  their 

99 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

lunch.  You  can't  realize  how  I  felt  to  see 
them  eating  their  lunch  so  near  at  hand 
and  to  know  that,  hungry  as  I  was,  I 
could  have  none  of  it.  I  was  greatly 
tempted  to  go  boldly  up  to  them  and 
take  a  chance  of  getting  a  share,  but  I  did 
not  know  whether  they  were  Germans  or 
not,  and  I  had  gone  through  too  much 
to  risk  my  liberty  even  for  food.  I  swal- 
lowed my  hunger  instead. 

Shortly  afterward  it  began  to  rain,  and 
about  four  o'clock  the  men  left.  I  crawled 
out  as  fast  as  I  could,  and  scurried  around 
looking  for  crumbs,  but  found  none,  and 
when  darkness  came  I  went  on  my  way 
once  more. 

That  night  I  came  to  a  river,  and  as  it 
was  the  first  time  my  clothes  had  been  dry 
for  a  long  time,  I  thought  I  would  try  to 
keep  them  that  way  as  long  as  possible.  I 
accordingly  took  off  all  my  things  and 
made  them  into  two  bundles,  planning  to 
carry  one  load  across  and  then  swim  back 
for  the  other. 

The  river  was  quite  wide,  but  I  am  a 
fairly  good  swimmer,  and  I  figured  I  could 
rest  awhile  after  the  first  trip  before  going 
back  for  the  second  bundle. 

100 


NINE    DAYS    IN  LUXEMBOURG 

The  first  swim  was  uneventful.  When  I 
landed  on  the  other  side  I  drank  till  my 
thirst  was  quenched,  and  then  swam  back. 
After  resting  awhile  I  started  across  a 
third  time,  with  my  shoes  and  several 
other  things  firmly  tied  to  my  head.  Just 
about  ten  feet  from  the  opposite  bank  one 
of  the  shoes  worked  its  way  loose  and 
sank  in  about  eight  feet  of  water.  There 
was  nothing  to  do  but  finish  the  trip  and 
then  go  back  and  dive  for  the  missing  shoe, 
as  I  could  not  go  on  with  a  single  shoe. 

Diving  in  my  weakened  condition  was 
considerable  strain,  but  I  had  to  have  that 
shoe,  and  I  kept  at  it  for  nearly  an  hour 
before  I  eventually  found  it,  and  I  was 
pretty  nearly  all  in  by  that  time. 

That  was  the  last  time  I  ever  took  my 
shoes  off,  for  my  feet  were  becoming  so 
swollen  that  I  figured  if  I  took  my  shoes 
off  I  might  be  unable  to  get  them  on  again. 

This  stunt  of  crossing  the  river  and  div- 
ing for  the  lost  shoe  had  consumed  about 
three  hours,  and  after  resting  some  fifteen 
minutes  I  went  on  my  way  again.  I  had 
hardly  gone  a  mile  when  I  came  to  another 
river,  about  the  same  size  as  the  one  I 
had  just  crossed.  I  walked  along  the  bank 

IOI 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

awhile,  thinking  that  I  might  be  lucky 
enough  to  find  a  boat  or  a  bridge,  but 
after  walking  about  half  an  hour  I  re- 
ceived one  of  those  disappointments  which 
"come  once  in  a  lifetime."  I  found  that 
this  river  was  the  one  I  had  just  swum!  I 
had  swum  it  on  the  bend  and  was  still  on  the 
wrong  side !  Had  I  made  only  a  short  de- 
tour in  the  first  place,  I  would  have  avoided 
all  the  annoyance  of  the  past  three  hours 
and  saved  my  strength  and  time.  I  was 
never  so  mad  in  my  lif e  at  myself  as  I  was 
to  think  that  I  had  not  paid  more  attention 
to  the  course  of  the  stream  before  I  under- 
took to  cross  it,  but,  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
there  was  really  no  way  of  telling.  The 
river  was  not  shown  on  my  map  at  all. 

Now  I  had  to  cross  it,  whereas  before  I 
could  have  turned  it.  I  walked  boldly 
into  the  water,  not  bothering  to  take  my 
clothes  off  this  time,  nor  did  I  ever  bother 
to  take  them  off  afterward  when  swimming 
canals  or  rivers.  I  found  it  was  impossible 
to  keep  them  dry,  anyway,  and  so  I  might 
just  as  well  swim  in  them  and  save  time. 

All  the  next  day  I  spent  in  a  forest,  to 
which  my  night's  travel  had  brought  me 
about  five  o'clock  in  the  morning.  I  kept 

IO2 


NINE   DAYS    IN   LUXEMBOURG 

on  my  way  through  the  woods  until  day- 
light came,  and  then,  thinking  the  place 
would  afford  fairly  good  concealment,  I 
concluded  to  rest  until  night. 

The  prospects  of  even  a  good  sleep  were 
dismal,  however,  for  about  the  time  the 
sun's  face  should  have  appeared  a  drizzling 
rain  began  and  I  gave  up  my  search  for  a 
dry  spot  which  would  serve  as  a  bed. 
Some  of  the  leaves  were  beginning  to  fall, 
but  of  course  there  were  not  enough  of 
them  to  have  formed  a  covering  for  the 
ground,  and  the  dampness  seemed  to  have 
penetrated  everywhere. 

I  wandered  around  through  the  woods 
for  two  or  three  hours,  looking  for  shelter, 
but  without  any  success,  for,  though  the 
trees  were  large,  the  forest  was  not  dense 
and  there  was  practically  no  brush  or 
shrubbery.  Consequently,  one  could  get 
a  fairly  clear  view  for  some  distance,  and  I 
knew  it  would  be  unwise  to  drop  off  to 
sleep  just  any  place,  or  some  one  would 
surely  happen  onto  me. 

Once  I  came  very  near  the  edge  of  the 

woods  and  heard  voices  of  men  driving  by 

in  a  wagon,  but  I  couldn't  make  out  just 

what  they  were,  and  instinct  told  me  I  had 

103 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

better  not  come  out  of  the  woods,  so  I 
turned  back.  Here  and  there  small  ar- 
tificial ditches  had  been  dug,  which  at  a 
dry  season  might  have  cradled  a  weary 
fugitive,  but  now  they,  too,  were  filled 
with  water.  Once  I  singled  out  a  good  big 
tree  with  large  branches  and  thought  I 
might  climb  into  it  and  go  to  sleep,  but 
the  longer  I  looked  at  it  the  more  I  realized 
that  it  would  require  more  energy  than  I 
had  in  my  present  weak  and  exhausted 
condition,  so  I  didn't  attempt  that. 

Finally  I  chose  a  spot  that  looked  a  bit 
drier  than  the  rest,  concluded  to  take  a 
chance  on  being  discovered,  and  threw  my- 
self down  for  a  nap.  I  was  extremely 
nervous,  though,  throughout  that  whole 
day  and  would  scarcely  get  settled  into  a 
comfortable  position  and  doze  off  for  a  few 
minutes  when,  startled  by  some  sound  in 
the  woods,  I  would  suddenly  waken. 

After  what  seemed  like  a  year  or  more, 
night  finally  came,  and  with  it  a  "dud" 
sky,  low-hanging  clouds,  and  still  more 
rain.  There  was  not  a  star  in  the  sky,  of 
course,  and  that  made  it  very  bad,  be- 
cause without  the  aid  of  the  stars  I  had 

absolutely  no  way  of  knowing  in  which 
104 


NINE   DAYS    IN   LUXEMBOURG 

direction  I  was  going.  It  was  just  a  case 
of  taking  a  chance.  I  probably  would 
have  been  better  off.  if  I  had  simply  picked 
out  a  place  and  stayed  there  until  the 
weather  improved,  but  naturally  I  was 
impatient  to  be  on  my  way  when  each  day 
without  food  only  lessened  my  strength 
and  my  ultimate  chances  of  reaching  the 
frontier. 

So  I  left  the  woods  and  struck  off  in  the 
direction  which  I  thought  was  north.  I 
hadn't  been  at  all  sure  of  my  bearings  the 
day  before,  and  as  it  had  rained  the  sun 
failed  entirely  to  help  me  out;  but  I  was 
almost  sure  I  had  the  right  direction,  and 
trusted  to  luck.  That  night  I  found  more 
rivers,  canals,  and  swamps  than  I  ever 
found  in  my  life  before,  but  I  had  the  good 
fortune  to  stumble  on  to  some  celery,  and 
after  my  diet  of  beets  it  surely  was  a  treat. 
Perhaps  it's  unnecessary  to  add  that  I  took 
on  a  good  supply  of  celery,  and  for  days  I 
went  along  chewing  celery  like  a  cow  would 
a  cud. 

Along  toward  morning,  when  I  supposed 

I  had  got  in  a  fairly  good  lap  of  my  journey 

— perhaps  seven  or  eight  miles — I  began 

to  recognize  certain  objects  as  familiar 

105 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

landmarks.  At  least,  I  thought  I  had  seen 
them  before,  and  as  I  traveled  along  I  knew 
positively  I  had  seen  certain  objects  very 
recently.  Off  at  my  right — not  over  a 
quarter  of  a  mile — I  noticed  some  fairly 
good-sized  woods,  and  thought  I  would  go 
over  there  to  hide  that  day,  because  it 
looked  as  though  the  sun  was  going  to 
shine,  and  I  hoped  to  get  my  clothes  dry 
and  perhaps  get  a  decent  sleep.  I  had  this 
celery  and  a  large  beet,  so  I  knew  I  would 
be  able  to  live  the  day  through. 

Finally,  I  made  my  way  over  to  the 
woods.  It  was  still  too  dark  in  among  the 
trees  to  do  much  in  the  way  of  selecting 
my  quarters  for  the  day,  and  I  could  not  go 
a  step  farther.  So  I  waited  on  the  edge  of 
the  forest  until  dawn  and  then  set  out  to 
explore  the  place  with  a  view  to  finding 
some  nook  where  I  might  sleep.  Imagine 
my  disgust  and  discouragement,  too,  when, 
an  hour  or  so  later,  I  came  upon  the  exact 
place  where  I  had  spent  the  day  before,  and 
I  realized  that  all  night  long  I  had  been 
circling  the  very  woods  I  was  trying  to  get 
away  from.  I  think  perhaps  I  had  gone  all 
of  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  the  right  direction, 
but  then  had  lost  my  bearings  entirely  and 
1 06 


NINE  DAYS    IN   LUXEMBOURG 

daylight  found  me  with  nothing  accom- 
plished. 

The  sun,  however,  did  come  out  that 
day,  and  I  welcomed  its  warm  rays  as  they 
perhaps  have  never  been  welcomed  before. 
I  was  very  tired — just  about  all  in — but  I 
spent  a  better  day  in  the  woods  than  the 
previous  one. 

That  night  the  stars  came  out ;  I  located 
my  friend,  the  North  Star,  and  tried  to 
make  up  for  lost  time.  But  when  one  is 
making  only  seven  or  eight  miles  a  day,  or 
rather  a  night,  one  night  lost  means  a 
whole  lot,  especially  when  each  day  keeps 
him  from  freedom.  Such  ill  fortune  and 
discouragements  as  this  were  harder  to 
endure,  I  believe,  than  the  actual  hunger, 
and  the  accompanying  worry  naturally  re- 
duced my  weight.  At  times  I  was  furi- 
ously angry  with  myself  for  the  mistakes 
I  made  and  the  foolish  things  I  did,  but  I 
always  tried  to  see  something  funny  about 
the  situation,  whatever  it  might  be,  that 
relieved  the  strain  a  bit  and  helped  to  pass 
the  time.  I  think  if  a  man  is  overburdened 
with  a  sense  of  humor  and  wants  to  get  rid 
of  it,  this  trip  I  took  would  be  an  excellent 
remedy  for  it.  Right  at  this  time  I  would 
107 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

have  welcomed  anything  for  a  companion; 
I  believe  even  a  snake  would  have  been  a 
godsend  to  me. 

With  a  name  as  Irish  as  mine,  it  is  only 
natural  that  I  looked  for  goats  along  the 
way,  thinking  that  I  might  be  able  to  milk 
them.  There  are  very  few  cows  in  this 
country,  and  the  opportunities  for  milking 
them  fewer  than  the  cows  themselves,  be- 
cause they  are  housed  in  barns  adjoining 
the  homes  and  always  alertly  watched  by 
their  fortunate  owners.  I  did  hope  that 
I  might  find  a  goat  staked  out  some  place 
in  the  fields,  but  in  all  my  travels  I  never 
saw  a  goat  or  a  pig,  and  only  a  few  cows. 
Several  times  I  searched  nests  for  eggs,  but 
somebody  always  had  beaten  me  to  it,  as 
I  never  even  found  so  much  as  a  nest  egg. 

There  was  no  chance  of  getting  away 
with  any  "bullying"  stuff  in  Luxembourg, 
I  knew,  because  the  young  men  have  not 
been  forced  into  the  army  and  are  still  at 
home,  and  as  they  are  decidedly  pro- 
German,  it  would  have  been  pretty  hard 
for  me  to  demand  anything  in  that  part  of 
the  country.  It  was  not  like  taking  things 
away  from  old  men  and  women  or  robbing 
people  that  could  not  stop  me  if  they  chose 
1 08 


NINE  DAYS    IN   LUXEMBOURG 

to  do  so.  I  thought  at  this  time  that  I 
was  suffering  about  the  worst  hardships 
any  human  being  could  ever  be  called  upon 
to  endure,  but  I  was  later  to  find  out  that 
the  best  of  my  journey  was  made  along 
about  this  time.  There  were  plenty  of 
vegetables,  even  though  they  were  raw, 
and  these  were  much  better  than  the  things 
I  was  afterward  compelled  to  eat  or  go 
without. 

We  frequently  hear  of  men  who  have 
lived  for  a  certain  number  of  days  on  their 
own  resources  in  the  woods  just  on  a  bet 
or  to  prove  that  the  "back  to  nature" 
theory  still  has  its  merits  and  will  still 
work.  My  advice  to  some  of  those  nature- 
seekers  is  to,  if  in  the  future  they  wish 
to  make  a  real  good  record,  try  the  little 
countries  of  Luxembourg  and  Belgium, 
with  a  slice  of  Germany  thrown  in. 

I  suppose  that  during  this  experience  of 
mine  I  made  many  mistakes  and  traveled 
many  unnecessary  miles  which  one  with  a 
knowledge  of  woodsmanship  might  have 
avoided,  and  I  failed  to  take  advantage  of 
many  things  which  would  have  been  quite 
apparent  to  one  who  knew.  It  must  not 
be  forgotten,  however,  that  I  did  not  un- 
109 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

dertake  this  adventure  voluntarily.  It  was 
"wished  on  me."  I  simply  had  to  make 
the  most  of  the  knowledge  I  had. 

At  about  this  time  blisters  began  to  ap- 
pear on  my  legs  and  my  knees  swelled. 
In  addition  I  was  pretty  well  convinced 
that  I  had  lost  the  sight  of  my  left  eye.  I 
hadn't  seen  a  thing  out  of  it  since  my  leap 
from  the  train. 

When  I  imagine  the  villainous  appear- 
ance I  must  have  presented  at  this  time 
— my  unhealed  wounds,  eighteen  days' 
growth  of  beard,  and  general  haggard 
and  unkempt  visage — I  think  the  fear  I 
felt  about  meeting  strangers  was  per- 
haps unwarranted.  The  chances  are  they 
would  have  been  infinitely  more  scared 
than  I! 

As  it  was,  I  was  nearly  out  of  Luxem- 
bourg before  I  really  came  face  to  face  with 
any  one.  It  was  about  six  o'clock  in  the 
morning  and  I  was  traveling  along  a  regular 
path.  Just  as  I  approached  a  cross-path 
I  heard  footsteps  coming  down  it.  I 
stopped  short,  stooped  over,  and  pretended 
to  be  adjusting  my  shoe-lace,  figuring  that 
if  the  stranger  turned  into  my  path  he 
would  probably  pass  right  by  me.  As 
no 


NINE   DAYS    IN   LUXEMBOURG 

luck  would  have  it,  he  continued  on  his 
way  and  never  noticed  me  at  all. 

After  that  I  frequently  noticed  groups  of 
Luxembourg  peasants  in  the  distance,  but  I 
usually  saw  them  first  and  managed  to 
avoid  them. 

About  the  eighteenth  day  after  my  leap 
from  the  train  I  crossed  into  Belgium.  It 
had  taken  me  just  nine  days  to  get  through 
Luxembourg — a  distance  which  a  man 
could  ordinarily  cover  in  two,  but,  consid- 
ering the  handicaps  under  which  I  labored, 
I  was  very  well  satisfied  with  my  progress. 

8 


IX 

I   ENTER   BELGIUM 

I  HAVE  said  it  was  about  the  eighteenth 
day  after  my  escape  that  I  entered  Bel- 
gium, but  that  is  more  or  less  guesswork. 
I  was  possibly  well  into  that  country  be- 
fore I  realized  that  I  had  crossed  the 
line. 

About  the  third  day  after  I  figured  I  was 
in  Belgium  I  started  to  swim  a  canal  just 
before  daylight.  I  was  then  heading  due 
north  in  the  direction  of  the  German  lines. 
I  was  just  about  to  wade  into  the  canal 
when  I  heard  a  German  yelling  violently, 
and  for  the  first  time  I  knew  I  was  being 
followed! 

I  ran  up  the  bank  of  the  canal  quite  a 
distance  and  then  swam  to  the  opposite 
side,  as  I  reasoned  they  would  not  be  look- 
ing for  me  there.  I  found  a  sheltered 
clump  of  bushes  in  a  swamp  near  the  canal, 

112 


I    ENTER    BELGIUM 

and  in  the  driest  part  that  I  could  find  I 
crawled  in  and  made  myself  as  comfortable 
as  possible.  The  sun  came  up  soon  and 
kept  me  warm,  and  I  planned  to  camp  right 
there,  food  or  no  food,  until  the  Huns  got. 
tired  of  searching  for  me.  I  think  I 
heard  them  once  or  twice  that  day,  and 
my  heart  nearly  stopped  on  each  occasion, 
but  evidently  they  decided  to  look  in  some 
other  direction  and  I  was  not  further 
molested. 

At  the  same  time  I  figured  that  it  was 
absolutely  necessary  for  me  to  change  my 
course  even  at  the  expense  of  going  some- 
what out  of  my  way.  Certainly  if  I  went 
north  they  would  get  me.  I  decided  to  go 
due  west,  and  I  kept  in  that  direction  for 
four  days. 

As  I  was  in  a  very  weak  condition,  I  did 
not  cover  more  than  five  miles  a  night.  I 
kept  away  from  the  roads  and  did  all  my 
journeying  through  fields,  beet  -  patches, 
woods,  swamps — anywhere,  provided  I 
was  not  likely  to  be  seen  and  captured. 
Food  was  an  important  consideration  to 
me,  but  it  was  secondary  to  concealment. 

At  last  I  brought  up  at  the  Meuse  River 
at  a  place  between  Namur  and  Huy,  and  it 
"3 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

was  here  that  I  came  nearest  of  all  to  giving 
up  the  struggle. 

The  Meuse  at  this  point  is  about  half  a 
mile  wide — as  wide  as  the  Hudson  River 
at  West  Point.  Had  I  been  in  normal  con- 
dition I  wouldn't  have  hesitated  a  moment 
to  swim  across.  San  Diego  Bay,  Califor- 
nia, is  a  mile  and  a  half  wide,  and  I  had 
often  swum  across  and  back,  and  the  San 
Joaquin,  which  is  also  a  mile  and  a  half 
wide,  had  never  proved  an  obstacle  to  me. 

In  the  wretched  shape  in  which  I  then 
was,  however,  the  Meuse  looked  like  the 
Atlantic  Ocean  to  me.  I  looked  for  a  boat, 
but  could  find  none.  I  tried  to  get  a  piece 
of  wood  upon  which  I  hoped  to  ferry  across, 
but  I  was  equally  unsuccessful. 

Get  across  I  must,  and  I  decided  there 
was  nothing  to  do  but  swim  it. 

It  was  then  about  three  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  I  waded  in  and  was  soon  in  be- 
yond my  depth  and  had  to  swim.  After 
about  an  hour  of  it  I  was  very  much  ex- 
hausted and  I  doubted  whether  I  could 
make  the  opposite  bank,  although  it  was 
not  more  than  thirty  or  forty  feet  away. 
I  choked  and  gasped  and  my  arms  and 
legs  were  completely  fagged  out.  I  sank  a 
114 


I    ENTER    BELGIUM 

little  and  tried  to  touch  bottom  with  my 
feet,  but  the  water  was  still  beyond  my 
depth. 

There  are  times  when  every  one  will 
pray,  and  I  was  no  exception.  I  prayed  for 
strength  to  make  those  few  wicked  yards, 
and  then,  with  all  the  will  power  I  could 
summon,  struck  out  for  dear  life.  It 
seemed  a  lifetime  before  I  finally  felt  the 
welcome  mud  of  bottom  and  was  able  to 
drag  myself  up  to  the  bank,  but  I  got 
there.  The  bank  was  rather  high,  and  I 
was  shaking  so  violently  that  when  I  took 
hold  of  the  grass  to  pull  myself  up,  the 
grass  shook  out  of  my  hands.  I  could  not 
retain  my  grip.  I  was  afraid  I  would 
faint  then  and  there,  but  I  kept  pulling 
and  crawling  frantically  up  that  infernal 
bank,  and  finally  made  it. 

Then,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  I 
fainted — fainted  from  utter  exhaustion. 

It  was  now  about  four  o'clock  in  the 
morning  and  I  was  entirely  unprotected 
from  observation.  If  any  one  had  come 
along  I  would  have  been  found  lying  there 
dead  to  the  world. 

Possibly  two  hours  passed  before  I  re- 
gained consciousness,  and  then,  no  doubt, 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

only  because  the  rain  was  beating  in  my 
face. 

I  knew  that  I  had  to  get  away,  as  it  was 
broad  daylight.  Moreover,  there  was  a 
towpath  right  there  and  any  minute  a  boat 
might  come  along  and  find  me.  But  it 
was  equally  dangerous  for  me  to  attempt 
to  travel  very  far.  Fortunately,  I  found 
some  shrubbery  near  by,  and  I  hid  there 
all  day,  without  food  or  drink. 

That  night  I  made  a  little  headway,  but 
when  day  broke  I  had  a  dreadful  fever  and 
was  delirious.  I  talked  to  myself  and 
thereby  increased  my  chances  of  capture. 
In  my  lucid  intervals,  when  I  realized  that 
I  had  been  talking,  the  thought  sent  a  chill 
through  me,  because  in  the  silent  night 
even  the  slightest  sound  carries  far  across 
the  Belgian  country.  I  began  to  fear  that 
another  day  of  this  would  about  finish  me. 

I  have  a  distinct  recollection  of  a  ridic- 
ulous conversation  I  carried  on  with  an 
imaginary  Pat  O'Brien — a  sort  of  duplicate 
of  myself.  I  argued  with  him  as  I  marched 
drearily  along,  and  he  answered  me  back 
in  kind,  and  when  we  disagreed  I  called 
upon  my  one  constant  friend,  the  North 
Star,  to  stand  by  me. 
116 


I   ENTER   BELGIUM 

"There  you  are,  you  old  North  Star!" 
I  cried,  aloud.  "You  want  me  to  get  to 
Holland,  don't  you?  But  this  Pat  O'Brien 
— this  Pat  O'Brien  who  calls  himself  a 
soldier — he's  got  a  yellow  streak — North 
Star — and  he  says  it  can't  be  done!  He 
wants  me  to  quit— to  lie  down  here  for  the 
Huns  to  find  me  and  take  me  back  to 
Courtrai — after  all  you've  done,  North 
Star,  to  lead  me  to  liberty.  Won't  you 
make  this  coward  leave  me,  North  Star? 
I  don't  want  to  follow  him — I  just  want  to 
follow  you — because  you — you  are  taking 
me  away  from  the  Huns  and  this  Pat 
O'Brien — this  fellow  who  keeps  after  me 
all  the  time  and  leans  on  my  neck  and 
wants  me  to  lie  down — this  yellow  Pat 
O'Brien  wants  me  to  go  back  to  the  Huns !" 

After  a  spell  of  foolish  chatter  like  that 
my  senses  would  come  back  to  me  for  a 
while  and  I  would  trudge  along  without  a 
word  until  the  fever  came  on  me  again. 

I  knew  that  I  had  to  have  food  because 
I  was  about  on  my  last  legs.  I  was  very 
much  tempted  to  lie  down  then  and  there 
and  call  it  a  heat.  Things  seemed  to  be 
getting  worse  for  me  the  farther  I  went, 
and  all  the  time  I  had  before  me  the  specter 
117 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

of  that  electric  barrier  between  Belgium 
and  Holland,  even  if  I  ever  reached  there 
alive.  What  was  the  use  of  further  suf- 
fering when  I  would  probably  be  captured 
in  the  end,  anyway? 

Before  giving  up,  however,  I  decided 
upon  one  bold  move.  I  would  approach 
one  of  the  houses  in  the  vicinity  and  get 
food  there  or  die  in  the  effort! 

I  picked  out  a  small  house,  because  I 
figured  there  would  be  less  likelihood  of 
soldiers  being  billeted  there. 

Then  I  wrapped  a  stone  in  my  khaki 
handkerchief  as  a  sort  of  camouflaged 
weapon,  determined  to  kill  the  occupant 
of  the  house,  German  or  Belgian,  if  that 
step  were  necessary  in  order  to  get  food. 
I  tried  the  well  in  the  yard,  but  it  would 
not  work,  and  then  I  went  up  to  the  door 
and  knocked. 

It  was  one  o'clock  in  the  morning.  An 
old  lady  came  to  the  window  and  looked 
out.  She  could  not  imagine  what  I  was, 
probably,  because  I  was  still  attired  in  that 
old  overcoat.  She  gave  a  cry,  and  her 
husband  and  a  boy  came  to  the  door. 

They  could  not  speak  English  and  I 
could  not  speak  Flemish,  but  I  pointed  to 
118 


I    ENTER    BELGIUM 

my  flying-coat  and  then  to  the  sky  and 
said  "fleger"  ("flier"),  which  I  thought 
would  tell  them  what  I  was. 

Whether  they  understood  or  were  in- 
timidated by  my  hard-looking  appearance, 
I  don't  know,  but  certainly  it  would  have 
to  be  a  brave  old  man  and  boy  who  would 
start  an  argument  with  such  a  villainous- 
looking  character  as  stood  before  them  that 
night !  I  riad  not  shaved  for  a  month,  my 
clothes  were  wet,  torn,  and  dirty,  my  leg- 
gings were  gone — they  had  got  so  heavy 
I  had  discarded  them — my  hair  was  matted, 
and  my  cheeks  were  flushed  with  fever. 
In  my  hand  I  carried  the  rock  in  my  hand- 
kerchief, and  I  made  no  effort  to  conceal 
its  presence  or  its  mission. 

Anyway,  they  motioned  me  indoors  and 
gave  me  my  first  hot  meal  in  more  than  a 
month.  True,  it  consisted  only  of  warm 
potatoes.  They  had  been  previously 
cooked,  but  the  old  woman  warmed  them 
up  in  milk  in  one  of  the  dirtiest  kettles  I 
had  ever  seen.  I  asked  for  bread,  but  she 
shook  her  head,  although  I  think  it  must 
have  been  for  lack  of  it  rather  than  because 
she  begrudged  it  to  me.  For  if  ever  a 
man  showed  he  was  famished,  I  did  that 
119 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

night.  I  swallowed  those  warm  potatoes 
ravenously  and  I  drank  four  glasses  of 
water  one  after  another.  It  was  the  best 
meal  I  had  had  since  the  "banquet"  in 
the  prison  at  Courtrai. 

The  woman  of  the  house  was  probably 
seventy-five  years  old  and  had  evidently 
worn  wooden  shoes  all  her  life,  for  she  had 
a  callous  spot  on  the  side  of  her  foot  the 
size  of  half  a  dollar,  and  it  looked  so  hard 
that  I  doubt  whether  you  could  have 
driven  a  nail  into  it  with  a  hammer. 

As  I  sat  there  drying  myself — for  I  was 
in  no  hurry  to  leave  the  first  human  habita- 
tion I  had  entered  in  four  weeks — I  re- 
flected on  my  unhappy  lot  and  the  un- 
known troubles  and  dangers  that  lay  ahead 
of  me.  Here,  for  more  than  a  month,  I 
had  been  leading  the  life  of  a  hunted 
animal — yes,  worse  than  a  hunted  animal, 
for  Nature  clothes  her  less  favored 
creatures  more  appropriately  for  the  life 
they  lead  than  I  was  clothed  for  mine 
— and  there  was  not  the  slightest  rea- 
son to  hope  that  conditions  would  grow 
better. 

Perhaps  the  first  warm  food  I  had  eaten 
for  over  a  month  had  released  unused 

I2O 


I    ENTER    BELGIUM 

springs  of  philosophy  in  me,  as  food  some- 
times does  for  a  man. 

I  pointed  to  my  torn  and  water-soaked 
clothes  and  conveyed  to  them  as  best  I 
could  that  I  would  be  grateful  for  an  old 
suit,  but  apparently  they  were  too  poor 
to  have  more  than  they  actually  needed 
themselves,  and  I  rose  to  go.  I  had 
roused  them  out  of  bed,  and  I  knew  I 
ought  not  to  keep  them  up  longer  than 
was  absolutely  necessary. 

As  I  approached  the  door  I  got  a  glance 
at  myself  in  a  mirror.  I  was  the  awfulest 
sight  I  had  ever  laid  eyes  on !  The  glimpse 
I  got  of  myself  startled  me  almost  as  much 
as  if  I  had  seen  a  dreaded  German  helmet ! 
My  left  eye  was  fairly  well  healed  by  this 
time,  and  I  was  beginning  to  regain  the 
sight  of  it,  but  my  face  was  so  haggard  and 
my  beard  so  long  and  unkempt  that  I 
looked  like  Santa  Claus  on  a  "bat." 

As  they  let  me  out  of  the  door  I  pointed 
to  the  opposite  direction  to  the  one  I  in- 
tended taking  and  started  off  in  the  direc- 
tion I  had  indicated.  Later  I  changed  my 
course  completely  to  throw  off  any  pos- 
sible pursuit. 

The  next  day  I  was  so  worn  out  from 

121 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

exposure  and  exhaustion  that  I  threw  away 
my  coat,  thinking  that  the  less  weight  I 
had  to  carry  the  better  it  would  be  for  me, 
but  when  night  came  I  regretted  my  mis- 
take, because  the  nights  were  now  getting 
colder.  I  thought  at  first  it  would  be  best 
for  me  to  retrace  my  steps  and  look  for 
the  coat  I  had  so  thoughtlessly  discarded, 
but  I  decided  to  go  on  without  it. 

I  then  began  to  discard  everything  that 
I  had  in  my  pocket,  finally  throwing  my 
wrist-watch  into  a  canal.  A  wrist-watch 
does  not  add  much  weight,  but  when  you 
plod  along  and  have  not  eaten  for  a  month 
it  finally  becomes  rather  heavy.  The  next 
thing  I  discarded  was  a  pair  of  flying- 
mittens. 

These  mittens  I  had  got  at  Camp  Bor- 
den,  in  Canada,  and  had  become  quite 
famous,  as  my  friends  termed  them  "snow- 
shoes."  In  fact,  they  were  a  ridiculous 
pair  of  mittens,  but  the  best  pair  I  ever 
had,  and  I  really  felt  worse  when  I  lost 
those  mittens  than  anything  else.  I  could 
not  think  of  anybody  else  ever  using  them, 
so  I  dug  a  hole  in  the  mud  and  buried 
them,  and  could  not  help  but  laugh  at  the 
thought  of  what  my  friends  would  say  had 

122 


they  seen  me  burying  my  mittens,  because 
they  were  a  standing  joke  in  Canada,  Eng- 
land, and  France. 

I  had  on  two  shirts,  and  as  they  were 
always  both  wet  and  didn't  keep  me  warm, 
it  was  useless  to  wear  both.  One  of  these 
was  a  shirt  that  I  had  bought  in  France, 
the  other  an  American  army  shirt.  They 
were  both  khaki  and  one  as  apt  to  give 
me  away  as  the  other,  so  I  discarded  the 
French  shirt.  The  American  army  shirt 
I  brought  back  with  me  to  England,  and 
it  is  still  in  my  possession. 

When  I  escaped  from  the  train  I  still 
had  that  Bavarian  cap  of  bright  red  in 
my  pocket  and  wore  it  for  many  nights, 
but  I  took  great  care  that  no  one  saw  it. 
It  also  had  proved  very  useful  when 
swimming  rivers,  for  I  carried  my  map 
and  a  few  other  belongings  in  it,  and  I 
had  fully  made  up  my  mind  to  bring  it 
home  as  a  souvenir.  But  the  farther  I 
went  the  heavier  my  extra  clothing  be- 
came, so  I  was  compelled  to  discard  even 
the  cap.  I  knew  that  it  would  be  a  tell- 
tale mark  if  I  simply  threw  it  away,  so  one 
night  after  swimming  a  river  I  dug  a  hole 
in  the  soft  mud  on  the  bank  and  buried  it, 
123 


\  .     • 

OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

too,  with  considerably  less  ceremony  than 
my  flying-mittens  had  received,  perhaps; 
and  that  was  the  end  of  my  Bavarian  hat. 

My  experience  at  the  Belgian's  house 
whetted  my  appetite  for  warm  food,  and 
I  figured  that  what  had  been  done  once 
could  be  done  again.  Sooner  or  later  I 
realized  I  would  probably  approach  a  Bel- 
gian and  find  a  German  instead,  but  in 
such  a  contingency  I  was  determined  to 
measure  my  strength  against  the  Hun's  if 
necessary  to  effect  my  escape. 

As  it  was,  however,  most  of  the  Belgians 
to  whom  I  applied  for  food  gave  it  to  me 
readily  enough,  and  if  some  of  them  re- 
fused me  it  was  only  because  they  feared 
I  might  be  a  spy  or  that  the  Germans 
would  shoot  them  if  their  action  were  sub- 
sequently found  out. 

About  the  fifth  day  after  I  had  entered 
Belgium  I  was  spending  the  day  as  usual 
in  a  clump  of  bushes  when  I  discerned  in 
the  distance  what  appeared  to  be  some- 
thing hanging  on  a  line.  All  day  long  I 
strained  my  eyes  trying  to  decide  what  it 
could  be  and  arguing  with  myself  that  it 
might  be  something  that  I  could  add  to 

my  inadequate  wardrobe,  but  the  distance 
124 


I    ENTER    BELGIUM 

was  so  great  that  I  could  not  identify  it. 
I  had  a  great  fear  that  before  night  came 
it  would  probably  be  removed. 

As  soon  as  darkness  fell,  however,  I 
crawled  out  of  my  hiding-place  and  worked 
up  to  the  line  and  got  a  pair  of  overalls 
for  my  industry.  It  was  a  mighty  joy- 
ful night  for  me.  That  pair  of  overalls 
was  the  first  bit  of  civilian  clothes  I  had 
thus  far  picked  up,  with  the  exception  of  a 
civilian  cap  which  I  had  found  at  the 
prison  and  concealed  on  my  person  and 
which  I  still  had.  The  overalls  were  rather 
small  and  very  short,  but  when  I  put  them 
on  I  found  that  they  hung  down  far 
enough  to  cover  my  breeches. 

It  was  perhaps  three  days  later  that  I 
planned  to  search  another  house  for  further 
clothes.  Entering  Belgian  houses  at  night 
is  anything  but  a  safe  proposition,  be- 
cause their  families  are  large  and  some- 
times as  many  as  seven  or  eight  sleep 
in  a  single  room.  The  barn  is  usually 
connected  with  the  house  proper,  and  there 
was  always  the  danger  of  disturbing  some 
dumb  animal,  even  if  the  inmates  of  the 
house  were  not  aroused. 

Frequently  I  took  a  chance  of  search- 
125 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

ing  a  backyard  at  night  in  the  hope  of 
finding  food  scraps,  but  my  success  in 
that  direction  was  so  slight  that  I  soon 
decided  it  wasn't  worth  the  risk,  and  I 
continued  to  live  on  the  raw  vegetables 
that  I  could  pick  with  safety  in  the  fields 
and  the  occasional  meal  that  I  was  able 
to  get  from  the  Belgian  peasants  in  the 
daytime. 

Nevertheless,  I  was  determined  to  get 
more  in  the  way  of  clothing,  and  when 
night  came  I  picked  out  a  house  that 
looked  as  though  it  might  furnish  me 
with  what  I  wanted.  It  was  a  moonlight 
night,  and  if  I  could  get  in  the  barn  I 
would  have  a  fair  chance  of  finding  my 
way  around  by  the  moonlight  which 
would  enter  the  windows. 

The  barn  adjoined  the  main  part  of 
the  house,  but  I  groped  around  very  care- 
fully and  soon  I  touched  something  hang- 
ing on  a  peg.  I  didn't  know  what  it 
was,  but  I  confiscated  it  and  carried  it 
out  into  the  fields.  There  in  the  moon- 
light I  examined  my  booty  and  found  it 
was  an  old  coat.  It  was  too  short  as  an 
overcoat  and  too  long  for  an  ordinary- 
coat,  but  nevertheless  I  made  use  of  it. 
126 


I    ENTER    BELGIUM 

It  had  probably  been  an  overcoat  for  the 
Belgian  who  had  worn  it. 

Some  days  later  I  got  a  scarf  from  a 
Belgian  peasant,  and  with  this  equipment 
I  was  able  to  conceal  my  uniform  entirely. 

Later  on,  however,  I  decided  that  it 
was  too  dangerous  to  keep  the  uniform 
on  anyway,  and  when  night  came  I  dug  a 
hole  and  buried  it. 

I  never  realized  until  I  had  to  part 
with  it  just  how  much  I  thought  of  that 
uniform.  It  had  been  with  me  through 
many  hard  trials,  and  I  felt  as  if  I  were 
abandoning  a  friend  when  I  parted  with 
it.  I  was  tempted  to  keep  the  wings  off 
the  tunic,  but  thought  that  that  would 
be  a  dangerous  concession  to  sentiment 
in  the  event  that  I  was  ever  captured. 
It  was  the  only  distinction  I  had  left, 
as  I  had  given  the  Royal  Flying  Corps 
badges  and  the  stars  of  my  rank  to  the 
German  Flying  Officers  as  souvenirs,  but 
I  felt  that  it  was  safer  to  discard  it. 
As  it  finally  turned  out,  through  all  my 
subsequent  experiences  my  escape  would 
never  have  been  jeopardized  had  I  kept 
my  uniform,  but,  of  course,  I  had  no 
idea  what  was  in  store  for  me. 

9  127 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

There  was  one  thing  which  surprised 
me  very  much  as  I  journeyed  through 
Belgium,  and  that  was  the  scarcity  of  dogs. 
Apparently  most  of  them  have  been 
taken  by  the  Germans,  and  what  are 
left  are  beasts  of  burden  who  are  too 
tired  at  night  to  bark  or  bother  intru- 
ders. This  was  a  mighty  good  thing  for 
me,  for  I  would  certainly  have  stirred 
them  up  in  passing  through  backyards, 
as  I  sometimes  did  when  I  was  making 
a  short  cut. 

One  night  as  I  came  out  of  a  yard  it 
was  so  pitch  dark  I  could  not  see  ten  feet 
ahead  of  me,  and  I  was  right  in  the  back 
of  a  little  village,  although  I  did  not  know 
it.  I  crawled  along,  fearing  I  might  come 
to  a  crossroads  at  which  there  would  in 
all  probability  be  a  German  sentry. 

My  precaution  served  me  in  good  stead, 
for  I  had  come  out  in  the  main  street 
of  a  village  and  within  twenty  feet  of 
me,  sitting  on  some  bricks  where  they 
were  building  a  little  store,  I  could  see 
the  dim  outline  of  a  German  spiked  hel- 
met! 

I  could  not  cross  the  street  and  the 
only  thing  to  do  was  to  back-track.  It 
128 


I    ENTER    BELGIUM 

meant  making  a  long  detour  and  losing 
two  hours  of  precious  time  and  effort, 
but  there  was  no  help  for  it,  and  I  plodded 
wearily  back,  cursing  the  Huns  at  every 
step. 

The  next  night  while  crossing  some 
fields  I  came  to  a  road.  It  was  one  of  the 
main  roads  of  Belgium  and  was  paved 
with  cobblestones.  On  these  roads  you 
can  hear  a  wagon  or  horse  about  a  mile 
or  two  away.  I  listened  intently  before 
I  moved  ahead,  and,  hearing  nothing, 
concluded  that  the  way  was  clear. 

As  I  emerged  from  the  field  and  got 
my  first  glimpse  of  the  road  I  got  the 
shock  of  my  life!  In  either  direction,  as 
far  as  I  could  see,  the  road  was  lined 
with  German  soldiers! 

What  they  were  doing  in  that  part  of 
Belgium  I  did  not  know,  but  you  can  be 
mighty  sure  I  didn't  spend  any  time 
trying  to  find  out. 

Again  it  was  necessary  to  change  my 
course  and  lose  a  certain  amount  of 
ground,  but  by  this  time  I  had  become 
fairly  well  reconciled  to  these  reverses 
and  they  did  not  depress  me  as  much  as 
they  had  at  first. 

129 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

At  this  period  of  my  adventure  if  a 
day  or  a  night  passed  without  its  thrill  I 
began  to  feel  almost  disappointed,  but 
such  disappointments  were  rather  rare. 

One  evening  as  I  was  about  to  swim 
a  canal  about  two  hundred  feet  wide  I 
suddenly  noticed,  about  one  hundred  yards 
away,  a  canal-boat  moored  to  the  side. 

It  was  a  sort  of  out-of-the-way  place, 
and  I  wondered  what  the  canal-boat  had 
stopped  for.  I  crawled  up  to  see.  As 
I  neared  the  boat  five  men  were  leaving 
it,  and  I  noticed  them  cross  over  into 
the  fields.  At  a  safe  distance  I  followed 
them,  and  they  had  not  gone  very  far 
before  I  saw  what  they  were  after.  They 
were  committing  the  common  but  hein- 
ous crime  of  stealing  potatoes! 

Without  the  means  to  cook  them,  po- 
tatoes didn't  interest  me  a  bit,  and  I 
thought  that  the  boat  itself  would  prob- 
ably yield  me  more  than  the  potato- 
patch.  Knowing  that  the  canal  hands 
would  probably  take  their  time  in  the 
fields,  I  climbed  up  the  stern  of  the  boat 
leisurely  and  without  any  particular  pains 
to  conceal  myself.  Just  as  my  head  ap- 
peared above  the  stern  of  the  boat  I  saw, 
130 


I    ENTER    BELGIUM 

silhouetted  against  the  sky,  the  dreaded 
outline  of  a  German  soldier — spiked  hel- 
met and  all!  A  chill  ran  down  my  spine 
as  I  dropped  to  the  bank  of  the  canal 
and  slunk  away.  Evidently  the  sentry 
had  not  seen  me  or,  if  he  had,  he  had 
probably  figured  that  I  was  one  of  the 
foraging  party,  but  I  realized  that  it 
wouldn't  pay  in  future  to  take  anything 
for  granted. 


EXPERIENCES  IN   BELGIUM 

1  THINK  that  one  of  the  worst  things 
I  had  to  contend  with  in  my  journey 
through  Belgium  was  the  number  of  small 
ditches.  They  intercepted  me  at  every 
half-mile  or  so,  sometimes  more  frequent- 
ly. The  canals  and  the  big  rivers  I  could 
swim.  Of  course,  I  got  soaked  to  the  skin 
every  time  I  did  it,  but  I  was  becoming 
hardened  to  that. 

These  little  ditches,  however,  were  too 
narrow  to  swim  and  too  wide  to  jump. 
They  had  perhaps  two  feet  of  water  in 
them  and  three  feet  of  mud,  and  it  was 
almost  invariablya  case  of  wading  through. 
Some  of  them,  no  doubt,  I  could  have 
jumped  if  I  had  been  in  decent  shape,  but 
with  a  bad  ankle  and  in  the  weakened 
condition  in  which  I  was,  it  was  almost 
out  of  the  question. 

132 


EXPERIENCES    IN   BELGIUM 

One  night  I  came  to  a  ditch  about  eight 
or  nine  feet  wide.  I  thought  I  was  strong 
enough  to  jump  it,  and  it  was  worth  try- 
ing, as  the  discomfort  I  suffered  after  wad- 
ing these  ditches  was  considerable.  Tak- 
ing a  long  run,  I  jumped  as  hard  as  I 
could,  but  I  missed  it  by  four  or  five  inches 
and  landed  in  about  two  feet  of  water  and 
three  feet  more  of  mud.  Getting  out  of 
that  mess  was  quite  a  job.  The  water  was 
too  dirty  and  too  scanty  to  enable  me  to 
wash  off  the  mud  with  which  I  was  cov- 
ered and  it  was  too  wet  to  scrape  off. 
I  just  had  to  wait  until  it  dried  and  scrape 
it  off  then. 

In  many  sections  of  Belgium  through 
which  I  had  to  pass  I  encountered  large 
areas  of  swamp  and  marshy  ground,  and, 
rather  than  waste  the  time  involved  in 
looking  for  better  underfooting — which  I 
might  not  have  found,  anyway — I  used  to 
plod  right  through  the  mud.  Apart  from 
the  discomfort  of  this  method  of  traveling 
and  the  slow  time  I  made,  there  was  an 
added  danger  to  me  in  the  fact  that  the 
"squash-squash"  noise  which  I  made 
might  easily  be  overheard  by  Belgians  and 
Germans  and  give  my  position  away.  No- 
133 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

body  would  cross  a  swamp  or  marsh  in 
that  part  of  the  country  unless  he  was 
trying  to  get  away  from  somebody,  and 
I  realized  my  danger,  but  could  not  get 
around  it. 

It  was  a  common  sight  in  Belgium  to 
see  a  small  donkey  and  a  common,  ordinary 
milch  cow  hitched  together,  pulling  a 
wagon.  When  I  first  observed  the  un- 
usual combination  I  thought  it  was  a  don- 
key and  ox  or  bull,  but  closer  inspection 
revealed  to  me  that  cows  were  being  used 
for  the  purpose. 

From  what  I  was  able  to  observe,  there 
must  be  very  few  horses  left  in  Belgium 
except  those  owned  by  the  Germans. 
Cows  and  donkeys  are  now  doing  the  work 
formerly  done  by  horses  and  mules.  Al- 
together I  spent  nearly  eight  weeks  wan- 
dering through  Belgium  and  in  all  that 
time  I  don't  believe  I  saw  more  than  half 
a  dozen  horses  in  the  possession  of  the 
native  population. 

One  of  the  scarcest  things  in  Germany, 
apparently,  is  rubber,  for  I  noticed  that 
their  motor  trucks,  or  lorries,  unlike  our 
own,  had  no  rubber  tires.  Instead,  heavy 
iron  bands  were  employed.  I  could  hear 
134 


EXPERIENCES    IN    BELGIUM 

them  come  rumbling  along  the  stone  roads 
for  miles  before  they  reached  the  spot 
where  I  happened  to  be  in  hiding.  When 
I  saw  these  military  roads  in  Belgium  for 
the  first  time,  with  their  heavy  cobble- 
stones that  looked  as  if  they  would  last 
for  centuries,  I  realized  at  once  why  it 
was  that  the  Germans  had  been  able  to 
make  such  a  rapid  advance  into  Belgium 
at  the  start  of  the  war. 

I  noticed  that  the  Belgians  used  dogs  to 
a  considerable  extent  to  pull  their  carts, 
and  I  thought  many  times  that  if  I  could 
have  stolen  one  of  those  dogs  it  would 
have  made  a  very  good  companion  for 
me,  and  might,  if  the  occasion  arose,  help 
me  out  in  a  fight.  But  I  had  no  way  of 
feeding  it  and  the  animal  would  prob- 
ably have  starved  to  death.  I  could  live 
on  vegetables  which  I  could  always  depend 
upon  finding  in  the  fields,  but  a  dog 
couldn't,  and  so  I  gave  up  the  ideak 

The  knack  of  making  fire  with  two 
pieces  of  dry  wood  I  had  often  read  about, 
but  I  had  never  put  it  to  a  test,  and  for 
various  reasons  I  concluded  that  it  would 
be  unsafe  for  me  to  build  a  fire  even  if  I 
had  matches.  In  the  first  place,  there  was 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

no  absolute  need  for  it.  I  didn't  have 
anything  to  cook,  nor  utensils  to  cook  it 
in  even  if  I  had.  While  the  air  was  getting 
to  be  rather  cool  at  night,  I  was  usually 
on  the  go  at  the  time  and  didn't  notice  it. 
In  the  daytime,  when  I  was  resting  or 
sleeping,  the  sun  was  usually  out. 

To  have  borrowed  matches  from  a  Bel- 
gian peasant  would  have  been  feasible, 
but  when  I  was  willing  to  take  the  chance 
of  approaching  any  one  it  was  just  as  easy 
to  ask  for  food  as  matches. 

In  the  second  place,  it  would  have  been 
extremely  dangerous  to  have  built  a  fire 
even  if  I  had  needed  it.  You  can't  build 
a  fire  in  Belgium,  which  is  the  most 
thickly  populated  country  in  Europe, 
without  every  one  knowing  it,  and  I 
was  far  from  anxious  to  advertise  my 
whereabouts. 

The  villages  in  the  part  of  Belgium 
through  which  I  was  making  my  course 
were  so  close  together  that  there  was 
hardly  ever  an  hour  passed  without  my 
hearing  some  clock  strike.  Every  village 
has  its  clock.  Many  times  I  could  hear 
the  clocks  striking  in  two  villages  at  the 

same  time. 

136 


EXPERIENCES    IN    BELGIUM 

But  the  hour  had  very  little  interest  to 
me.  My  program  was  to  travel  as  fast  as 
I  could  from  sunset  to  sunrise  and  pay  no 
attention  to  the  hours  in  between,  and  in 
the  daytime  I  had  only  two  things  to 
worry  about:  keep  concealed  and  get  as 
much  sleep  as  possible. 

The  cabbage  that  I  got  in  Belgium  con- 
sisted of  the  small  heads  that  the  peasants 
had  not  cut.  All  the  strength  had  con- 
centrated in  these  little  heads  and  they 
would  be  as  bitter  as  gall.  I  would  have 
to  be  pretty  hungry  to-day  before  I  could 
ever  eat  cabbage  again,  and  the  same  ob- 
servation applies  to  carrots,  turnips,  and 
sugar-beets — especially  sugar-beets. 

It  is  rather  a  remarkable  thing  that 
to-day  even  the  smell  of  turnips,  raw  or 
cooked,  makes  me  sick,  and  yet  a  few 
short  months  ago  my  life  depended  upon 
them. 

Night  after  night,  as  I  searched  for  food, 
I  was  always  in  hopes  that  I  might  come 
upon  some  tomatoes  or  celery — vegetables 
which  I  really  liked,  but  with  the  exception 
of  once,  when  I  found  some  celery,  I  was 
never  so  fortunate.  I  ate  so  much  of  the 
celery  the  night  I  came  upon  it  that  I 
137 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

was  sick  for  two  days  thereafter,  but  I 
carried  several  bunches  away  with  me  and 
used  to  chew  on  it  as  I  walked  along. 

Of  course,  I  kept  my  eyes  open  all  the 
time  for  fruit  trees,  but  apparently  it  was 
too  late  in  the  year  for  fruit,  as  all  that  I 
ever  was  able  to  find  were  two  pears  which 
I  got  out  of  a  tree.  That  was  one  of  my 
red-letter  days,  but  I  was  never  able  to 
repeat  it. 

In  the  brooks  and  ponds  that  I  passed  I 
often  noticed  fish  of  different  kinds.  That 
was  either  in  the  early  morning,  just  before 
I  turned  in  for  the  day,  or  on  moonlight 
nights  when  the  water  seemed  as  clear  in 
spots  as  in  the  daytime.  It  occurred  to 
me  that  it  would  be  a  simple  matter  to  rig 
a  hook  and  line  and  catch  some  of  the  fish, 
but  I  had  no  means  of  cooking  them  and  it 
was  useless  to  fish  for  the  sake  of  it. 

One  night  in  Belgium  my  course  took 
me  through  a  desolate  stretch  of  country 
which  seemed  to  be  absolutely  unculti- 
vated. I  must  have  covered  twelve  miles 
during  the  night  without  passing  a  single 
farm  or  cultivated  field.  My  stock  of 
turnips  which  I  had  plucked  the  night  be- 
fore was  gone  and  I  planned,  of  course,  to 
138 


EXPERIENCES    IN    BELGIUM 

get  enough  to  carry  me  through  the  fol- 
lowing day. 

The  North  Star  was  shining  brightly 
that  night  and  there  was  absolutely  noth- 
ing to  prevent  my  steering  an  absolutely 
direct  course  for  Holland  and  liberty,  but 
my  path  seemed  to  lie  through  arid  past- 
ures. Far  to  the  east  or  to  the  west  I 
could  hear  faintly  the  striking  of  village 
bells,  and  I  knew  that  if  I  changed  my 
course  I  would  undoubtedly  strike  farms 
and  vegetables,  but  the  North  Star  seemed 
to  plead  with  me  to  follow  it,  and  I  would 
not  turn  aside. 

When  daylight  came  the  consequence 
was  I  was  empty-handed,  and  I  had  to 
find  a  hiding-place  for  the  day.  I  thought 
I  would  approach  the  first  peasant  I  came 
to  and  ask  for  food,  but  that  day  I  had 
misgivings — a  hunch — that  I  would  get 
into  trouble  if  I  did,  and  I  decided  to  go 
without  food  altogether  for  that  day. 

It  was  a  foolish  thing  to  do,  I  found, 
because  I  not  only  suffered  greatly  from 
hunger  all  that  day,  but  it  interfered  with 
my  sleep.  I  would  drop  off  to  sleep  for 
half  an  hour,  perhaps,  and  during  that 
time  I  would  dream  that  I  was  free,  back 
139 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

home,  living  a  life  of  comparative  ease, 
and  then  I  would  wake  up  with  a  start 
and  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  bushes  sur- 
rounding me,  feel  the  hard  ground  be- 
neath me  and  the  hunger  pangs  gnawing 
at  my  insides,  and  then  I  would  realize 
how  far  from  home  I  really  was,  and  I 
would  lie  there  and  wonder  whether  I 
would  ever  really  see  my  home  again. 
Then  I  would  fall  asleep  again  and  dream 
this  time,  perhaps,  of  the  days  I  spent  in 
Courtrai,  of  my  leap  from  the  train  win- 
dow, of  the  Bavarian  pilot  whom  I  sent 
to  eternity  in  my  last  air-fight,  of  my 
tracer-bullets  getting  closer  and  closer  to 
his  head,  and  then  I  would  wake  up  again 
with  a  start  and  thank  the  Lord  that  I 
was  only  dreaming  it  all  again  instead  of 
living  through  it! 

That  night  I  got  an  early  start  because 
I  knew  I  had  to  have  food,  and  I  decided 
that,  rather  than  look  for  vegetables,  I 
would  take  a  chance  and  apply  to  the 
first  Belgian  peasant  I  came  to. 

It  was  about  eight  o'clock  when  I  came 
to  a  small  house.  I  had  picked  up  a  heavy 
stone  and  had  bound  it  in  my  handker- 
chief, and  I  was  resolved  to  use  it  as  a 
140 


EXPERIENCES    IN    BELGIUM 

weapon  if  it  became  necessary.  After 
all  I  had  gone  through  I  was  resolved  to 
win  my  liberty  eventually  at  whatever 
cost. 

As  it  happened,  I  found  that  night  the 
first  real  friend  I  had  encountered  in  all 
my  traveling.  When  I  knocked  timidly 
on  the  door  it  was  opened  by  a  Belgian 
peasant,  about  fifty  years  of  age.  He 
asked  me  in  Flemish  what  I  wanted,  but 
I  shook  my  head  and,  pointing  to  my  ears 
and  mouth,  intimated  that  I  was  deaf  and 
dumb,  and  then  I  opened  and  closed  my 
teeth  several  times  to  show  him  that  I 
wanted  food. 

He  showed  me  inside  and  sat  me  at 
the  table.  He  apparently  lived  alone, 
for  his  ill-furnished  room  had  but  one 
chair,  and  the  plate  and  knife  and  fork 
he  put  before  me  seemed  to  be  all  he  had. 
He  brought  me  some  cold  potatoes  and 
several  slices  of  stale  bread,  and  he 
warmed  me  some  milk  on  a  small  oil- 
stove. 

I  ate  ravenously,  and  all  the  time  I  was 
engaged  I  knew  that  he  was  eying  me 
closely. 

Before  I  was  half  through  he  came  over 
141 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

to  me,  touched  me  on  the  shoulder,  and, 
stooping  over  so  that  his  lips  almost 
touched  my  ear,  he  said,  in  broken  Eng- 
lish, "You  are  an  Englishman — I  know 
it — and  you  can  hear  and  talk  if  you 
wish.  Am  I  not  right?" 

There  was  a  smile  on  his  face  and  a 
friendly  attitude  about  him  that  told  me 
instinctively  that  he  could  be  trusted,  and 
I  replied,  "You  have  guessed  right — only 
I  am  an  American,  not  an  Englishman." 

He  looked  at  me  pityingly  and  filled 
my  cup  again  with  warm  milk. 

His  kindness  and  apparent  willingness 
to  help  me  almost  overcame  me,  and  I 
felt  like  warning  him  of  the  consequences 
he  would  suffer  if  the  Huns  discovered  he 
had  befriended  me.  I  had  heard  that 
twenty  Belgians  had  been  shot  for  helping 
Belgians  to  escape  into  Holland,  and  I 
hated  to  think  what  might  happen  to 
this  Good  Samaritan  if  the  Huns  ever 
knew  that  he  had  helped  an  escaped 
American  prisoner. 

After  my  meal  was  finished  I  told  him 
in  as  simple  language  as  I  could  command 
of  some  of  the  experiences  I  had  gone 
through,  and  I  outlined  my  future  plans. 
142 


EXPERIENCES    IN    BELGIUM 

"You  will  never  be  able  to  get  to  Hol- 
land," he  declared,  "without  a  passport. 
The  nearer  you  get  to  the  frontier  the 
more  German  soldiers  you  will  encounter, 
and  without  a  passport  you  will  be  a 
marked  man." 

I  asked  him  to  suggest  a  way  by  which 
I  could  overcome  this  difficulty. 

He  thought  for  several  moments  and 
studied  me  closely  all  the  time — perhaps 
endeavoring  to  make  absolutely  sure  that 
I  was  not  a  German  spy — and  then,  ap- 
parently deciding  in  my  favor,  told  me 
what  he  thought  it  was  best  for  me  to  do. 

"If  you  will  call  on  this  man,"  mention- 
ing the  name  of  a  Belgian  in ,  a  city 

through  which  I  had  to  pass,  he  advised, 
"you  will  be  able  to  make  arrangements 
with  him  to  secure  a  passport,  and  he  will 
do  everything  he  can  to  get  you  out  of 
Belgium." 

He  told  me  where  the  man  hi  question 
could  be  found  and  gave  me  some  useful 
directions  to  continue  my  journey,  and 
then  he  led  me  to  the  door.  I  thanked 
him  a  thousand  times  and  wanted  to  pay 
him  for  his  kindness  and  help,  but  he 
would  accept  nothing.  He  did  give  me 

10  143 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

his  name,  and  you  may  be  sure  I  shall 
never  forget  it,  but  to  mention  it  here 
might,  of  course,  result  in  serious  conse- 
quences for  him.  When  the  war  is  over, 
however,  or  the  Germans  are  thrown  out 
of  Belgium,  I  shall  make  it  my  duty  to 
find  that  kind  Belgian,  if  to  do  it  I  have 
to  go  through  again  all  that  I  have  suf- 
fered already. 


XI 

I  ENCOUNTER  GERMAN  SOLDIERS 

WHAT  the  Belgian  had  told  me  about 
the  need  of  a  passport  gave  me  fresh 
cause  for  worry.     Suppose  I  should  run 
into  a  German  sentry  before  I  succeeded 
in  getting  one? 

I  decided  that  until  I  reached  the  big 
city  which  the  Belgian  had  mentioned — 
and  which  I  cannot  name  for  fear  of  identi- 
fying some  of  the  people  there  who  be- 
friended me — I  would  proceed  with  the 
utmost  precaution.  Since  I  had  discarded 
my  uniform  and  had  obtained  civilian 
clothes  I  had  not  been  quite  as  careful  as 
I  was  at  first.  While  I  had  done  my 
traveling  at  night,  I  had  not  gone  into  hid- 
ing so  early  in  the  morning  as  before,  and 
I  had  sometimes  started  again  before  it 
was  quite  dark,  relying  upon  the  fact  that 
I  would  probably  be  mistaken  for  a  Bel- 
145 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

gian  on  his  way  to  or  from  work,  as  the 
case  might  be.  From  now  on,  I  resolved, 
however,  I  would  take  no  more  chances. 

That  evening  I  came  to  a  river  perhaps 
seventy-five  yards  wide,  and  I  was  getting 
ready  to  swim  it  when  I  thought  I  would 
walk  a  little  way  to  find,  if  possible,  a  bet- 
ter place  to  get  to  the  river  from  the  bank. 
I  had  not  walked  more  than  a  few  hundred 
feet  when  I  saw  a  boat.  It  was  the  first 
time  I  had  seen  a  boat  in  all  my  ex- 
periences. 

It  was  firmly  chained,  but  as  the  stakes 
were  sunk  in  the  soft  bank  it  was  not  much 
of  a  job  to  pull  them  out.  I  got  in,  drank 
to  my  heart's  content,  shoved  over  to  the 
other  side,  got  out,  drove  a  stake  into  the 
ground,  and  moored  the  boat.  It  would 
have  been  a  simple  matter  to  have  drifted 
down  the  river,  but  the  river  was  not 
shown  on  my  map  and  I  had  no  idea 
where  it  might  lead  me.  Very  reluctantly, 
therefore,  I  had  to  abandon  the  boat  and 
proceed  on  foot. 

I  made  several  miles  that  night  and  be- 
fore daylight  found  a  safe  place  in  which 
to  hide  for  the  day.  From  my  hiding- 
place  I  could  see  through  the  bushes  a 
146 


I    ENCOUNTER    GERMAN    SOLDIERS 

heavy  thick  wood  only  a  short  distance 
away.  I  decided  that  I  would  start  earlier 
than  usual,  hurry  over  to  the  wood,  and 
perhaps  in  that  way  I  could  cover  two  or 
three  miles  in  the  daytime  and  gain  just 
so  much  time.  Traveling  through  the 
wood  would  be  comparatively  safe.  There 
was  a  railroad  going  through  the  wood, 
but  I  did  not  figure  that  that  would  make 
it  any  the  less  safe. 

About  three  o'clock  that  afternoon, 
therefore,  I  emerged  from  my  hiding-place 
and  hurried  into  the  wood.  After  pro- 
ceeding for  half  a  mile  or  so  I  came  to  the 
railroad.  I  took  a  sharp  look  in  both 
directions  and,  seeing  no  signs  of  trains  or 
soldiers,  I  walked  boldly  over  the  tracks 
and  continued  on  my  way. 

I  soon  came  upon  a  clearing  and  knew 
that  some  one  must  be  living  in  the  vi- 
cinity. As  I  turned  a  group  of  trees  I 
saw  a  small  house  and  in  the  distance  an 
old  man  working  in  a  garden.  I  decided 
to  enter  the  house  and  ask  for  food,  figur- 
ing the  woman  would  probably  be  old  and 
would  be  no  match  for  me  even  if  she 
proved  hostile.  The  old  woman  who  came 
to  the  door  in  response  to  my  knock  was 
147 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

older  even  than  I  had  expected.  If  she 
wasn't  close  to  a  hundred  years,  I  miss  my 
guess  very  much. 

She  could  not  speak  English  and  I  could 
not  speak  Flemish,  of  course,  but,  never- 
theless, I  made  her  understand  that  I 
wanted  something  to  eat.  She  came  out 
of  the  door  and  hollered  for  her  husband 
in  a  shrill  voice  that  would  have  done 
credit  to  a  girl  of  eighteen.  The  old  man 
came  in  from  his  garden  and  between  the 
two  of  them  they  managed  to  get  the  idea 
that  I  was  hungry,  and  they  gave  me  a 
piece  of  bread — a  very  small  piece — which 
was  quite  a  treat. 

The  house  they  lived  in  consisted  of  just 
two  rooms — the  kitchen  and  a  bedroom. 
The  kitchen  was  perhaps  fourteen  feet 
square,  eight  feet  of  one  side  of  it  being 
taken  up  by  an  enormous  fireplace.  What 
was  in  the  bedroom  I  had  no  way  of  telling, 
as  I  did  not  dare  to  be  too  inquisitive. 

I  made  the  old  couple  understand  that  I 
would  like  to  stay  in  their  house  all  night, 
but  the  old  man  shook  his  head.  I  bade 
them  good-by  and  disappeared  into  the 
woods,  leaving  them  to  speculate  as  to  the 
strange  foreigner  they  had  entertained. 
148 


I    ENCOUNTER    GERMAN    SOLDIERS 

From  the  greater  density  of  the  popula- 
tion in  the  section  through  which  I  was 
now  passing  I  realized  that  I  must  be  in 
the  outskirts  of  the  big  city  which  the 
Belgian  had  mentioned  and  where  I  was 
to  procure  a  passport. 

Village  after  village  intercepted  me,  and, 
although  I  tried  to  skirt  them  wherever 
possible,  I  realized  that  I  would  never  make 
much  progress  if  I  continued  that  course. 
To  gain  a  mile  I  would  sometimes  have  to 
make  a  detour  of  two  or  three.  I  decided 
that  I  would  try  my  luck  in  going  straight 
through  the  next  village  I  came  to. 

As  I  approached  it  I  passed  numbers  of 
peasants  who  were  ambling  along  the  road. 
I  was  afraid  to  mingle  with  them  because 
it  was  impossible  for  me  to  talk  to  them 
and  it  was  dangerous  to  arouse  suspicion 
even  among  the  Belgians.  For  all  I  knew, 
one  of  them  might  be  treacherous  enough 
to  deliver  me  to  the  Germans  in  return 
for  the  reward  he  might  be  sure  of  re- 
ceiving. 

About  nine  o'clock  that  evening  I  came 

to  a  point  where  ahead  of  me  on  the  right 

was  a  Belgian  police  station — I  knew  it 

from  its  red  lights — and  on  the  other  side 

149 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

of  the  street  were  two  German  soldiers  in 
uniform  leaning  against  a  bicycle. 

Here  was  a  problem  which  called  for 
instant  decision.  If  I  turned  back,  the 
suspicion  of  the  soldiers  would  be  in- 
stantly aroused,  and  if  I  crossed  the  road 
so  as  not  to  pass  so  closely  to  them,  they 
might  be  equally  suspicious.  I  decided 
to  march  bravely  by  the  Huns,  bluff  my 
way  through,  and  trust  to  Providence.  If 
anybody  imagines,  however,  that  I  was 
at  all  comfortable  as  I  approached  those 
soldiers,  he  must  think  that  I  am  a  much 
braver  man  than  I  claim  to  be.  My  heart 
beat  so  loud  I  was  afraid  they  would  hear 
it.  Every  step  I  took  brought  me  so  much 
nearer  to  what  might  prove  to  be  the  end 
of  all  my  hopes.  It  was  a  nerve-racking 
ordeal. 

I  was  now  within  a  few  feet  of  them. 
Another  step  and — 

They  didn't  turn  a  hair!  I  passed  right 
by  them — heard  what  they  were  saying, 
although,  of  course,  I  didn't  understand 
it,  and  went  right  on.  I  can't  say  I  didn't 
walk  a  little  faster  as  I  left  them  behind, 
but  I  tried  to  maintain  an  even  gait  so 
as  not  to  give  them  any  idea  of  the  inward 
150 


I    ENCOUNTER    GERMAN    SOLDIERS 

exultation  I  was  experiencing.  No  words 
can  explain,  however,  how  relieved  I 
really  felt — to  know  that  I  had  success- 
fully passed  through  the  first  of  a  series  of 
similar  tests  which  I  realized  were  in  store 
for  me — although  I  did  not  know  then 
how  soon  I  was  to  be  confronted  with  the 
second. 

As  it  was,  however,  the  incident  gave 
me  a  world  of  confidence.  It  demon- 
strated to  me  that  there  was  nothing  in 
my  appearance,  at  any  rate,  to  attract  the 
attention  of  the  German  soldiers.  Ap- 
parently I  looked  like  a  Belgian  peasant, 
and  if  I  could  only  work  things  so  that  I 
would  never  have  to  answer  questions  and 
thus  give  away  my  nationality,  I  figured 
I  would  be  tolerably  safe. 

As  I  marched  along  I  felt  so  happy  I 
couldn't  help  humming  the  air  of  one  of 
the  new  patriotic  songs  that  we  used  to 
sing  at  the  aerodrome  back  of  Ypres. 

In  this  happy  fame  of  mind  I  covered 
the  next  three  miles  in  about  an  hour, 
and  then  I  came  to  another  little  vil- 
lage. My  usual  course  would  have  been  to 
go  around  it — through  fields,  backyards, 
woods,  or  whatever  else  lay  in  my  way — 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

but  I  had  gained  so  much  time  by  going 
through  the  last  village  instead  of  de- 
touring  around  it,  and  my  appearance 
seemed  to  be  so  unsuspicious,  that  I  de- 
cided to  try  the  same  stunt  again. 

I  stopped  humming  and  kept  very 
much  on  the  alert,  but,  apart  from  that, 
I  walked  boldly  through  the  main  street 
without  any  feeling  of  alarm. 

I  had  proceeded  perhaps  a  mile  along  the 
main  street  when  I  noticed  ahead  of  me 
three  German  soldiers  standing  at  the  curb. 

Again  my  heart  started  to  beat  fast,  I 
must  confess,  but  I  was  not  nearly  so 
scared  as  I  had  been  an  hour  or  so  before. 
I  walked  ahead,  determined  to  follow 
my  previous  procedure  in  every  particular. 

I  had  got  to  about  fifteen  feet  away 
from  the  soldiers  when  one  of  them  stepped 
onto  the  sidewalk  and  shouted: 

"Halt!" 

My  heart  stopped  beating  fast — for  a 
moment,  I  believe,  it  stopped  beating 
altogether!  I  can't  attempt  to  describe 
my  feelings.  The  thought  that  the  jig 
was  up,  that  all  I  had  gone  through  and 
all  I  had  escaped  would  now  avail  me 
nothing,  mingled  with  a  feeling  of  dis- 
152 


I    ENCOUNTER    GERMAN    SOLDIERS 

gust  with  myself  because  of  the  foolish 
risk  I  had  taken  in  going  through  the 
village,  combined  to  take  all  the  starch 
out  of  me,  and  I  could  feel  myself  wilting 
as  the  soldier  advanced  to  the  spot  where 
I  stood  rooted  in  my  tracks. 

I  had  a  bottle  of  water  in  one  pocket 
and  a  piece  of  bread  in  the  other,  and  as 
the  Hun  advanced  to  search  me  I  held 
the  bottle  up  in  one  hand  and  the  piece 
of  bread  in  the  other  so  that  he  could 
see  that  was  all  I  had. 

It  occurred  to  me  that  he  would  "frisk" 
me — that  is,  feel  me  over  for  arms  or 
other  weapons,  then  place  me  under  ar- 
rest and  march  me  off  to  the  guard-house. 
I  had  not  the  slightest  idea  but  that  I 
was  captured,  and  there  didn't  seem  to 
be  much  use  in  resisting,  unarmed  as  I 
was  and  with  two  other  German  soldiers 
within  a  few  feet  of  us. 

Like  a  flash  it  suddenly  dawned  on 
me,  however,  that  for  all  this  soldier 
could  have  known  I  was  only  a  Belgian 
peasant  and  that  his  object  in  searching 
me,  which  he  proceeded  to  do,  was  to 
ascertain  whether  I  had  committed  the 
common  "crime"  of  smuggling  potatoes! 
153 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

The  Belgians  are  allowed  only  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  potatoes,  and  it  is  against 
the  laws  laid  down  by  the  Huns  to  deal  in 
vegetables  of  any  kind  except  under  the 
rigid  supervision  of  the  authorities.  Never- 
theless, it  was  one  of  the  principal  voca- 
tions of  the  average  poor  Belgian  to  buy 
potatoes  out  in  the  country  from  the 
peasants  and  then  smuggle  them  into  the 
large  cities  and  sell  them  clandestinely  at 
a  high  price. 

To  stop  this  traffic  in  potatoes  the  Ger- 
man soldiers  were  in  the  habit  of  sub- 
jecting the  Belgians  to  frequent  search, 
and  I  was  being  held  up  by  this  soldier 
for  no  other  reason  than  that  he  thought 
I  might  be  a  potato-smuggler! 

He  felt  of  my  outside  clothes  and  pock- 
ets, and,  finding  no  potatoes,  seemed  to 
be  quite  satisfied.  Had  he  but  known 
who  I  was  he  could  have  earned  an  iron 
cross!  Or  perhaps,  in  view  of  the  fact 
that  I  had  a  heavy  water-bottle  in  my 
uplifted  hand,  it  might  have  turned  out 
to  be  a  wooden  cross! 

He  said  something  in  German,  which, 
of  course,  I  did  not  understand,  and  then 
some  Belgian  peasants  came  along  and 
154 


I    ENCOUNTER   GERMAN    SOLDIERS 

seemed  to  distract  his  attention.  Per- 
haps he  had  said,  "It's  all  right,  you  may 
go  on,"  or  he  may  have  been  talking  to 
the  others  in  Flemish,  but,  at  any  rate, 
observing  that  he  was  more  interested  in 
the  others  than  he  was  in  me  at  the  mo- 
ment, I  put  the  bottle  in  my  pocket  and 
walked  on. 

After  I  walked  a  few  steps  I  took  a 
furtive  glance  backward  and  noticed  the 
soldier  who  had  searched  me  rejoin  his 
comrades  at  the  curb  and  then  stop  an- 
other fellow  who  had  come  along,  and  then 
I  disappeared  in  the  darkness. 

I  cannot  say  that  the  outcome  of  this 
adventure  left  me  in  the  same  confident 
frame  of  mind  that  followed  the  earlier 
one.  It  was  true  I  had  come  out  of  it  all 
right,  but  I  could  not  help  thinking  what 
a  terribly  close  shave  I  had. 

Suppose  the  soldier  had  questioned  me? 
The  ruse  I  had  been  following  in  my  deal- 
ings with  the  Belgian  peasants — pretend- 
ing I  was  deaf  and  dumb — might  possibly 
have  worked  here,  too,  but  a  soldier — a 
German  soldier — might  not  so  easily  have 
been  fooled.  It  was  more  than  an  even 
chance  that  it  would  at  least  have  aroused 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

his  suspicions  and  resulted  in  further  in- 
vestigation. A  search  of  my  clothing 
would  have  revealed  a  dozen  things  which 
would  have  established  my  identity,  and 
all  my  shamming  of  deafness  would  have 
availed  me  nothing. 

As  I  wandered  along  I  knew  that  I  was 
now  approaching  the  big  city  which  my 
Belgian  friend  had  spoken  of  and  which 
I  would  have  to  enter  if  I  was  to  get  the 
passport,  and  I  realized  now  how  essential 
it  was  to  have  something  to  enable  me  to 
get  through  the  frequent  examinations  to 
which  I  expected  to  be  subjected. 

While  I  was  still  debating  in  my  mind 
whether  it  was  going  to  be  possible  for  me 
to  enter  the  city  that  night,  I  saw  in  the 
distance  what  appeared  to  be  an  arc-light, 
and  as  I  neared  it  that  was  what  it  turned 
out  to  be.  Beneath  the  light  I  could 
make  out  the  forms  of  three  guards,  and 
the  thought  of  having  to  go  through  the 
same  kind  of  ordeal  that  I  had  just  ex- 
perienced filled  me  with  misgivings.  Was 
it  possible  that  I  could  be  fortunate  enough 
to  get  by  again? 

As  I  slowed  up  a  little,  trying  to  make 
up  my  mind  what  was  best  to  do,  I  was 
156 


I    ENCOUNTER    GERMAN    SOLDIERS 

overtaken  by  a  group  of  Belgian  women 
who  were  shuffling  along  the  road,  and  I 
decided  to  mingle  with  them  and  see  if  I 
couldn't  convey  the  impression  that  I  was 
one  of  their  party. 

As  we  approached  the  arc-light  the 
figures  of  those  three  soldiers  with  their 
spiked  helmets  loomed  up  before  me  like 
a  regiment.  I  felt  as  if  I  were  walking 
right  into  the  jaws  of  death.  Rather  than 
go  through  what  was  in  store  for  me  I  felt 
that  I  would  infinitely  prefer  to  be  fighting 
again  in  the  air  with  those  four  desperate 
Huns  who  had  been  the  cause  of  my  present 
plight;  then,  at  least,  I  would  have  a 
chance  to  fight  back,  but  now  I  had  to 
risk  my  life  and  take  what  was  coming 
to  me  without  a  chance  to  strike  a  blow 
in  my  own  defense. 

I  shall  never  forget  my  feelings  as  we 
came  within  the  shaft  of  light  projected 
by  that  great  arc-light,  nor  the  faces  of 
those  three  guards  as  we  passed  by  them. 
I  didn't  look  directly  at  them,  but  out  of 
the  corner  of  my  eye  I  didn't  miss  a  de- 
tail. I  held  a  handkerchief  up  to  my  face 
as  we  passed  them,  and  endeavored  to 
imitate  the  slouching  gait  of  the  Belgians 
157 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

as  well  as  I  could;  and  apparently  it 
worked.  We  walked  right  by  those 
guards  and  they  paid  absolutely  no  atten- 
tion to  us. 

If  ever  a  fellow  felt  like  going  down  on 
his  knees  and  praying,  I  did  at  that  mo- 
ment, but  it  wouldn't  have  done  to  show 
my  elation  or  gratitude  in  that  conspicuous 
way. 

It  was  then  well  after  eleven  o'clock, 
and  I  knew  it  would  be  unsafe  for  me  to 
attempt  to  find  a  lodging-place  in  the  city, 
and  the  only  thing  for  me  to  do  was  to 
locate  the  man  whose  name  the  Belgian 
had  given  me.  He  had  given  me  a  good 
description  of  the  street  and  had  directed 
me  how  to  get  there,  and  I  followed  his 
instructions  closely. 

After  walking  the  streets  for  about  half 
an  hour  I  came  upon  one  of  the  landmarks 
my  friend  had  described  to  me,  and  ten 
minutes  afterward  I  was  knocking  at  the 
door  of  the  man  who  was  to  make  it  pos- 
sible for  me  to  reach  Holland — and  liberty. 
At  least  that  was  what  I  hoped. 


XII 

THE  FORGED  PASSPORT 

FOR  obvious  reasons  I  cannot  describe 
the  man  to  whom  I  applied  for  the 
passport,  nor  the  house  in  which  he  lived. 
While,  in  view  of  what  subsequently  hap- 
pened, I  would  not  be  very  much  con- 
cerned if  he  got  into  trouble  for  having 
dealt  with  me,  I  realize  that  the  hard- 
ships he  had  endured  in  common  with  all 
the  other  inhabitants  of  that  conquered 
city  may  possibly  have  distorted  his  ideas 
of  right  and  justice,  and  I  shall  not  de- 
liberately bring  further  disaster  on  him  by 
revealing  his  identity. 

This  man — we  will  call  him  Huyliger, 
because  that  is  as  unlike  his  name  as  it 
is  mine — was  very  kind  to  me  on  that 
memorable  night  when  I  aroused  him 
from  his  sleep  and  in  a  few  words  of  ex- 
planation told  him  of  my  plight. 
"  159 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

He  invited  me  inside,  prepared  some 
food  for  me,  and,  putting  on  a  dressing- 
gown,  came  and  sat  by  me  while  I  ate, 
listening  with  the  greatest  interest  to  the 
short  account  I  gave  him  of  my  advent- 
ures. 

He  could  speak  English  fluently,  and 
he  interrupted  me  several  times  to  ex- 
press his  sympathy  for  the  sufferings  I 
had  endured. 

"  O'Brien,"  he  said,  after  I  had  concluded 
my  story,  "I  am  going  to  help  you.  It 
may  take  several  days — perhaps  as  long 
as  two  weeks,  but  eventually  we  will  pro- 
vide the  means  to  enable  you  to  get  into 
Holland!" 

I  thanked  him  a  thousand  times  and 
told  him  that  I  didn't  know  how  I  could 
possibly  repay  him. 

" Don't  think  of  that,"  he  replied;  "the 
satisfaction  of  knowing  that  I  have  aided 
in  placing  one  more  victim  of  the  Huns 
beyond  their  power  to  harm  him  will 
more  than  repay  me  for  all  the  risk  I 
shall  run  in  helping  you.  You'd  better 
turn  in  now,  O'Brien,  and  in  the  morning 
I'll  tell  you  what  I  plan  to  do." 

He  showed  me  to  a  small  room  on  the 

160 


THE    FORGED   PASSPORT 

second  floor,  shook  hands  with  me,  and 
left  me  to  prepare  for  the  first  real  night's, 
rest  I  had  been  able  to  take  in  nearly  two 
months. 

As  I  removed  my  clothes  and  noticed 
that  my  knees  were  still  swollen  to  twice 
their  normal  size,  that  my  left  ankle  was 
black  and  blue  from  the  wrench  I  had 
given  it  when  I  jumped  from  the  train, 
and  that  my  ribs  showed  through  my 
skin,  I  realized  what  a  lot  I  had  been 
through.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  could 
not  have  weighed  more  than  one  hundred 
and  fifty  pounds  at  that  time,  whereas  I 
had  tipped  the  scales  at  one  hundred  and 
ninety  when  I  was  with  my  squadron  in 
France. 

I  lost  no  time  in  getting  into  bed  and 
still  less  in  getting  to  sleep.  I  don't  know 
what  I  dreamed  of  that  night,  but  I  had 
plenty  of  time  to  go  through  the  experi- 
ences of  my  whole  life,  for  when  I  was 
aroused  by  a  knock  on  the  door,  and 
Huyliger  came  in,  in  response  to  my  in- 
vitation to  enter,  he  told  me  that  it  was 
nearly  noon.  I  had  slept  for  nearly 
twelve  hours. 
I  cannot  say  that  the  thought  did  not 

161 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

run  through  my  head  that  perhaps,  after 
all,  I  was  living  in  a  fool's  paradise,  and 
that  when  Huyliger  reappeared  it  would 
be  with  a  couple  of  German  soldiers  be- 
hind him,  but  I  dismissed  such  misgivings 
summarily,  realizing  that  I  was  doing 
Huyliger  an  injustice  to  let  such  things 
enter  my  head  even  for  an  instant.  I 
had  no  right  to  doubt  his  sincerity,  and 
it  would  do  me  no  good  to  entertain  such 
suspicions.  If  he  was  going  to  prove 
treacherous  to  me,  I  was  powerless,  any- 
way, to  cope  with  him. 

In  a  few  moments  my  host  appeared 
with  a  tray  containing  my  breakfast.  I 
don't  suppose  I  shall  ever  forget  that 
meal.  It  consisted  of  a  cup  of  coffee — 
real  coffee,  not  the  kind  I  had  had  at 
Courtrai — several  slices  of  bread,  some  hot 
potatoes,  and  a  dish  of  scrambled  eggs. 

Every  mouthful  of  that  meal  tasted  like 
angel-food  to  me,  and  Huyliger  sat  on  the 
edge  of  the  bed  and  watched  me  enjoying 
the  meal,  at  the  same  time  outlining  the 
plans  he  had  made  for  my  escape. 

In  brief,  the  scheme  was  to  conceal  me 
in  a  convent  until  conditions  were  ripe  for 
me  to  make  my  way  to  the  border.  In  the 
162 


THE    FORGED   PASSPORT 

mean  while  I  was  to  be  dressed  in  the  garb 
of  a  priest,  and  when  the  time  came  for  me 
to  leave  the  city  I  was  to  pretend  that 
I  was  a  Spanish  sailor,  because  I  could 
speak  a  little  Spanish,  which  I  had  picked 
up  on  the  coast.  To  attempt  to  play  the 
part  of  a  Belgian  would  become  increas- 
ingly difficult,  he  pointed  out,  and  would 
bring  inevitable  disaster  in  the  event  that 
I  was  called  upon  to  speak. 

Huyliger  said  I  would  be  given  sufficient 
money  to  bribe  the  German  guards  at  the 
Dutch  frontier,  and  he  assured  me  that 
everything  would  work  out  according  to 
schedule. 

"Yours  is  not  the  first  case,  O'Brien, 
we  have  handled  successfully,"  he  de- 
clared. "Only  three  weeks  ago  I  heard 
from  an  English  merchant  who  had  es- 
caped from  a  German  detention  camp  and 
come  to  me  for  assistance,  and  whom  I  had 
been  able  to  get  through  the  lines.  His 
message  telling  me  of  his  safe  arrival  in 
Rotterdam  came  to  me  in  an  indirect  way, 
of  course,  but  the  fact  that  the  plans  we 
had  made  carried  through  without  mishap 
makes  me  feel  that  we  ought  to  be  able  to 
do  as  much  for  you." 
163 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

I  told  Huyliger  I  was  ready  to  follow 
his  instructions  and  would  do  anything  he 
suggested. 

"I  want  to  rejoin  my  squadron  as  soon 
as  I  possibly  can,  of  course,"  I  told  him, 
"but  I  realize  that  it  will  take  a  certain 
length  of  time  for  you  to  make  the  neces- 
sary arrangements,  and  I  will  be  as  patient 
as  I  can." 

The  first  thing  to  do,  Huyliger  told  me, 
was  to  prepare  a  passport.  He  had  a 
blank  one  and  it  was  a  comparatively 
simple  matter  to  fill  in  the  spaces,  using 
•a  genuine  passport  which  Huyliger  pos- 
sessed as  a  sample  of  the  handwriting  of 
the  passport  clerk.  My  occupation  was 
entered  as  that  of  a  sailor.  My  birth- 
place we  gave  as  Spain,  and  we  put  my 
age  at  thirty.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  at  that 
time  I  could  easily  have  passed  for  thirty- 
five,  but  we  figured  that  with  proper  food 
and  a  decent  place  to  sleep  in  at  night  I 
would  soon  regain  my  normal  appearance 
and  the  passport  would  have  to  serve  me, 
perhaps,  for  several  weeks  to  come. 

Filling  in  the  blank  spaces  on  the  pass- 
port was,  as  I  have  said,  a  comparatively 
easy  matter,  but  that  did  not  begin  to 
164 


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tfltf^trh.  frua  **.  W 

2.  KiyenhiiHitiffe 


7.  Jdrfsse  a/w Mufenttialisort    

f.   Want  ill  tier  Ar.tragsta/ler  zolgtzl  in  aia  tvfonthaHsgoateiiuie  eingetogqn?.    *J 

3.   Van  tcetrhftn  Orte  ist  Antragsletlet-  zufffiofffn  ?•• 

la  ,../«.  fmtfmlt  ,,  a.«n"«.;/r  f,tamt*>   -    Qu.He  caMOlunc  U  fttitu'  da  c«mfi»l  hibitwi-ii  I 


^  ______  .  .    .^ 


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Brand  me/char  Lcgitimutica 
tier  Periont'auiifGit  amgeslelll? 


f.  Bftcfieifiigung  zmetar 

'. .  '.'\.r^g  rfj«r  Ck«f  £ttm$m 


L'n/ersfftrf/t  efcs.  Bettmtcn 


THE  FORGED  PASSPORT  PREPARED  IN  A  BELGIAN  CITY  TO  AID  LIEU- 
TENANT O'BRIEN'S  ESCAPE  INTO  HOLLAND,  BUT  WHICH  WAS  NEVER 
USED 


THE    FORGED    PASSPORT 

fill  the  bill.  Every  genuine  passport 
bore  an  official  rubber  stamp,  something 
like  an  elaborate  postmark,  and  I  was 
at  a  loss  to  know  how  to  get  over  that 
difficulty. 

Fortunately,  however,  Huyliger  had  half 
of  a  rubber  stamp  which  had  evidently 
been  thrown  away  by  the  Germans,  and 
he  planned  to  construct  the  other  half  out 
of  the  cork  from  a  wine  bottle.  He  was 
very  skilful  with  a  penknife,  and  although 
he  spoiled  a  score  or  more  of  corks  before 
he  succeeded  in  getting  anything  like  the 
result  he  was  after,  the  finished  article 
was  far  better  than  our  most  sanguine  ex- 
pectations. Indeed,  after  we  had  pared 
it  over  here  and  there  and  removed  what- 
ever imperfections  our  repeated  tests  dis- 
closed, we  had  a  stamp  which  made  an 
impression  so  closely  resembling  the  orig- 
inal that,  without  a  magnifying-glass,  we 
were  sure  it  would  have  been  impossible 
to  tell  that  it  was  a  counterfeit. 

Huyliger  procured  a  camera  and  took  a 
photograph  of  me  to  paste  on  the  passport 
in  the  place  provided  for  that  purpose, 
and  we  then  had  a  passport  which  was 
entirely  satisfactory  to  both  of  us  and 
165 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

would,  we  hoped,  prove  equally  so  to  our 
friends  the  Huns. 

It  had  taken  two  days  to  fix  up  the  pass- 
port. In  the  mean  while,  Huyliger  in- 
formed me  that  he  had  changed  his  plans 
about  the  convent,  and  that  instead  he 
would  take  me  to  an  empty  house  where 
I  could  remain  in  safety  until  he  told  me 
it  was  advisable  for  me  to  proceed  to  the 
frontier. 

This  was  quite  agreeable  to  me,  as  I 
had  had  some  misgivings  as  to  the  kind 
of  a  priest  I  would  make,  and  it  seemed 
to  me  to  be  safer  to  remain  aloof  from 
every  one  in  a  deserted  house  than  to  have 
to  mingle  with  people  or  come  in  contact 
with  them  even  with  the  best  of  disguises. 

That  night  I  accompanied  Huyliger  to 
a  fashionable  section  of  the  city  where 
the  house  in  which  I  was  to  be  concealed 
was  located. 

This  house  turned  out  to  be  a  four-story 
structure  of  brick.  Huyliger  told  me  that 
it  had  been  occupied  by  a  wealthy  Belgian 
before  the  war,  but  since  1914  it  had  been 
uninhabited  save  for  the  occasional  habita- 
tion of  some  refugee  whom  Huyliger  was 
befriending. 

166 


THE    FORGED   PASSPORT 

Huyliger  had  a  key  and  let  me  in,  but 
he  did  not  enter  the  house  with  me,  stat- 
ing that  he  would  visit  me  in  the  morning. 

I  explored  the  place  from  top  to  bottom 
as  well  as  I  could  without  lights.  The 
house  was  elaborately  furnished,  but,  of 
course,  the  dust  lay  a  quarter  of  an  inch 
thick  almost  everywhere.  It  was  a  large 
house,  containing  some  twenty  rooms. 
There  were  two  rooms  in  the  basement, 
four  on  the  first  floor,  four  on  the  second, 
five  on  the  third,  and  five  on  the  top.  In 
the  days  that  were  to  come  I  was  to  have 
plenty  of  opportunity  to  familiarize  my- 
self with  the  contents  of  that  house,  but 
at  the  time  I  did  not  know  it,  and  I  was 
curious  enough  to  want  to  know  just  what 
the  house  contained. 

Down  in  the  basement  there  was  a  huge 
pantry,  but  it  was  absolutely  bare,  except 
of  dust  and  dirt.  A  door  which  evidently 
led  to  a  sub-basement  attracted  my  atten- 
tion, and  I  thought  it  might  be  a  good  idea 
to  know  just  where  it  led  in  case  it  became 
necessary  for  me  to  elude  searchers. 

In  that  cellar  I  found  case  after  case  of 
choice  wine — Huyliger  subsequently  told 
me  that  there  were  eighteen  hundred  bot- 
167 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

ties  of  it.  I  was  so  happy  at  the  turn  my 
affairs  had  taken  and  in  the  rosy  prospects 
which  I  now  entertained  that  I  was  half 
inclined  to  indulge  in  a  little  celebration 
then  and  there.  On  second  thoughts,  how- 
ever, I  remembered  the  old  warning  of  the 
folly  of  shouting  before  you  are  well  out 
of  the  woods,  and  I  decided  that  it  would 
be  just  as  well  to  postpone  the  festivities 
for  a  while  and  go  to  bed  instead. 

In  such  an  elaborately  furnished  house  I 
had  naturally  conjured  up  ideas  of  a  won- 
derfully large  bed,  with  thick  hair  mat- 
tresses, downy  quilts,  and  big  soft  pillows. 
Indeed,  I  debated  for  a  while  which  par- 
ticular bedroom  I  should  honor  with  my 
presence  that  night.  Judge  of  my  dis- 
appointment, therefore,  when,  after  visiting 
bedroom  after  bedroom,  I  discovered  that 
there  wasn't  a  bed  in  any  one  of  them  that 
was  in  a  condition  to  sleep  in.  All  the  mat- 
tresses had  been  removed  and  the  rooms 
were  absolutely  bare  of  everything  in  the 
way  of  wool,  silk,  or  cotton  fabrics.  The 
Germans  had  apparently  swept  the  house 
clean. 

There  was  nothing  to  do,  therefore,  but 
to  make  myself  as  comfortable  as  I  could 

168 


THE   FORGED   PASSPORT 

on  the  floor,  but  as  I  had  grown  accustomed 
by  this  time  to  sleeping  under  far  less 
comfortable  conditions  I  swallowed  my 
disappointment  as  cheerfully  as  I  could  and 
lay  down  for  the  night. 

In  the  morning  Huyliger  appeared  and 
brought  me  some  breakfast,  and  after  I 
had  eaten  it  he  asked  me  what  connections 
I  had  in  France  or  England  from  whom  I 
could  obtain  money. 

I  told  him  that  I  banked  at  Cox  &  Co., 
London,  and  that  if  he  needed  any  money 
I  would  do  anything  I  could  to  get  it  for 
him,  although  I  did  not  know  just  how  such 
things  could  be  arranged. 

"Don't  worry  about  that,  O'Brien,"  he 
replied.  ' '  We'll  find  a  way  of  getting  at  it, 
all  right.  What  I  want  to  know  is  how 
far  you  are  prepared  to  go  to  compensate 
me  for  the  risks  I  am  taking  and  for  the 
service  I  am  rendering  you." 

The  change  in  the  man's  attitude 
stunned  me.  I  could  hardly  believe  my 
ears. 

"Of  course,  I  shall  pay  you  as  well  as 

I   can  for  what  you  have  done,   Huy- 

liger,"  I  replied,  trying  to  conceal  as  far 

as  possible  the  disappointment  his  demand 

169 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

had  occasioned  me.  "But  don't  you 
think  that  this  is  hardly  the  proper  time 
or  occasion  to  talk  of  compensation?  All 
I  have  on  me,  as  you  know,  is  a  few  hun- 
dred francs,  and  that,  of  course,  you  are 
welcome  to,  and  when  I  get  back,  if  I 
ever  do,  I  shall  not  easily  forget  the 
kindness  you  have  shown  me.  I  am  sure 
you  need  have  no  concern  about  my  show- 
ing my  gratitude  in  a  substantial  way." 

"That's  all  right,  O'Brien,"  he  in- 
sisted, looking  at  me  in  a  knowing  sort 
of  way.  "You  may  take  care  of  me  after- 
ward, and  then  again  you  may  not.  I'm 
not  satisfied  to  wait.  I  want  to  be  taken 
care  of  now!1' 

"Well,  what  do  you  want  me  to  do? 
How  much  do  you  expect  in  the  way  of 
compensation?  How  can  I  arrange  to 
get  it  to  you?  I  am  willing  to  do  any- 
thing that  is  reasonable." 

"I  want pounds!"  he  replied,  and 

he  named  a  figure  that  staggered  me.  If 
I  had  been  Lord  Kitchener  instead  of 
just  an  ordinary  lieutenant  in  the  R.  F. 
C.,  he  would  hardly  have  asked  a  larger 
sum.  Perhaps  he  thought  I  was. 

"Why,  my  dear  man,"  I  said,  smilingly, 
170 


THE    FORGED   PASSPORT 

thinking  that  perhaps  he  was  joking, 
"you  don't  really  mean  that,  do  you?" 

"I  certainly  do,  O'Brien,  and  what  is 
more,"  he  threatened,  "I  intend  to  get 
every  cent  I  have  asked,  and  you  are 
going  to  help  me  get  it!" 

He  pulled  out  an  order  calling  for  the 
payment  to  him  of  the  amount  he  had 
mentioned,  and  demanded  that  I  sign  it. 

I  waved  it  aside. 

"Huyliger,"  I  said,  "you  have  helped 
me  out  so  far,  and  perhaps  you  have  the 
power  to  help  me  further.  I  appreciate 
what  you  have  done  for  me,  although 
now,  I  think,  I  see  what  your  motive 
was,  but  I  certainly  don't  intend  to  be 
blackmailed,  and  I  tell  you  right  now  that 
I  won't  stand  for  it!" 

"Very  well,"  he  said.  "It  is  just  as  you 
say.  But  before  you  make  up  your  mind 
so  obstinately  I  would  advise  you  to 
think  it  over.  I'll  be  back  this  evening." 

My  first  impulse,  after  the  man  had 
left,  was  to  get  out  of  that  house  just  as 
soon  as  I  could.  I  had  the  passport  he 
had  prepared  for  me,  and  I  figured  that 
even  without  further  help  from  him  I 
could  now  get  to  the  border  without  very 
171 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

much  difficulty,  and  when  I  got  there  I 
would  have  to  use  my  own  ingenuity  to 
get  through. 

It  was  evident,  however,  that  Huyliger 
still  had  an  idea  that  I  might  change  my 
mind  with  regard  to  the  payment  he  had 
demanded,  and  I  decided  that  it  woulb 
be  foolish  to  do  anything  until  he  paid 
me  a  second  visit. 

At  the  beginning  of  my  dealings  with 
Huyliger  I  had  turned  over  to  him  some 
pictures,  papers,  and  other  things  that  I 
had  on  me  when  I  entered  his  house,  in- 
cluding my  identification  disk,  and  I  was 
rather  afraid  that  he  might  refuse  to  re- 
turn them  to  me. 

All  day  long  I  remained  in  the  house 
without  a  particle  of  food  other  than  the 
breakfast  Huyliger  had  brought  to  me. 
From  the  windows  I  could  see  plenty  to 
interest  me  and  help  pass  the  time  away, 
but  of  my  experiences  while  in  that  house 
I  shall  tell  in  detail  later  on,  confining 
my  attention  now  to  a  narration  of  my 
dealings  with  Huyliger. 

That  night  he  appeared,  as  he  had 
promised. 

"Well,  O'Brien,"  he  asked,  as  he  entered 
172 


THE    FORGED    PASSPORT 

the  room  where  I  was  awaiting  him, 
"what  do  you  say?  Will  you  sign  the 
order  or  not?" 

It  had  occurred  to  me  during  the  day 
that  the  amount  demanded  was  so  fabu- 
lous that  I  might  have  signed  the  order 
without  any  danger  of  its  ever  being  paid, 
but  the  idea  of  this  man,  who  had  claimed 
to  be  befriending  me,  endeavoring  to 
make  capital  out  of  my  plight  galled  me 
so  that  I  was  determined  not  to  give  in 
to  him,  whether  I  could  do  so  in  safety  or 
not. 

"No,  Huyliger,"  I  replied.  "I  have 
decided  to  get  along  as  best  I  can  with- 
out any  further  assistance  from  you. 
I  shall  see  that  you  are  reasonably  paid 
for  what  you  have  done,  but  I  will  not 
accept  any  further  assistance  from  you 
at  any  price,  and,  what  is  more,  I  want 
you  to  return  to  me  at  once  all  the  photo- 
graphs and  other  papers  and  belongings 
of  mine  which  I  turned  over  to  you  a 
day  or  two  ago!" 

"I'm  sorry  about  that,  O'Brien,"  he 
retorted,  with  a  show  of  apparent  sincerity, 
"but  that  is  something  I  cannot  do." 

"If  you  don't  give  me  back  those  papers 
173 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

at  once,"  I  replied,  hotly,  "I  will  take 
steps  to  get  them  and  damned  quick, 
too!" 

"I  don't  know  just  what  you  could  do, 
O'Brien,"  he  declared,  coolly,  "but  as  a 
matter  of  fact  the  papers  and  pictures 
you  refer  to  are  out  of  the  country.  I 
could  not  give  them  back  to  you  if  I 
wanted  to." 

Something  told  me  the  man  was  lying. 

"See  here,  Huyliger!"  I  threatened,  ad- 
vancing toward  him,  putting  my  hand  on 
his  shoulder  and  looking  him  straight  in 
the  eye,  "I  want  those  papers  and  I  want 
them  here  before  midnight  to-night.  If  I 
don't  get  them,  I  shall  sleep  in  this  place 
just  once  more,  and  then,  at  eight  o'clock 
to-morrow  morning,  I  shall  go  to  the 
German  authorities,  give  myself  up,  show 
them  the  passport  that  you  fixed  up  for 
me,  tell  them  how  I  got  it,  and  explain 
everything!" 

Huyliger  paled.  We  had  no  lights  in 
the  house,  but  we  were  standing  near  a 
landing  at  the  time  and  the  moonlight  was 
streaming  through  a  stained-glass  window. 

The   Belgian  turned  on  his   heel   and 
started  to  go  down  the  stairs. 
174 


THE    FORGED   PASSPORT 

"Mind  you,"  I  called  after  him,  "I 
shall  wait  for  you  till  the  city  clock 
strikes  twelve,  and  if  you  don't  show  up 
with  those  papers  by  that  time,  the  next 
time  you  will  see  me  is  when  you  confront 
me  before  the  German  authorities!  I  am 
a  desperate  man,  Huyliger,  and  I  mean 
every  word  I  say!" 

He  let  himself  out  of  the  door  and  I 
sat  on  the  top  stair  and  wondered  just 
what  he  would  do.  Would  he  try  to 
steal  a  march  on  me  and  get  in  a  first 
word  to  the  authorities,  so  that  my  story 
would  be  discredited  when  I  put  it  to 
them? 

Of  course  my  threat  to  give  myself  up 
to  the  Huns  was  a  pure  bluff.  While  I 
had  no  desire  to  lose  the  papers  which 
Huyliger  had,  and  which  included  the  map 
of  the  last  resting-place  of  my  poor  chum 
Raney,  I  certainly  had  no  intention  of 
cutting  off  my  nose  to  spite  my  chin  by 
surrendering  to  the  Germans.  I  would 
have  been  shot,  as  sure  as  fate,  for,  after 
all  I  had  been  able  to  observe  behind  the 
German  lines,  I  would  be  regarded  as  a 
spy  and  treated  as  such. 

At  the  same  time  I  thought  I  had  de- 
12  I75 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

tected  a  yellow  streak  in  Huyliger,  and  I 
figured  that  he  would  not  want  to  take 
the  risk  of  my  carrying  out  my  threat, 
even  though  he  believed  there  was  but  a 
small  chance  of  my  doing  so.  If  I  did, 
he  would  undoubtedly  share  my  fate, 
and  the  pictures  and  papers  he  had  of 
mine  were  really  of  no  use  to  him,  and  I 
have  never  been  able  to  ascertain  why  it 
was  he  wished  to  retain  them  unless  they 
contained  something — some  information 
about  me — which  accounted  for  his  com- 
plete change  of  attitude  toward  me  in 
the  first  place,  and  he  wanted  the  papers 
as  evidence  to  account  to  his  superiors 
or  associates  for  his  conduct  toward  me. 

When  he  first  told  me  that  the  plan  of 
placing  me  in  a  convent  disguised  as  a 
priest  had  been  abandoned  he  explained 
it  by  saying  that  the  Cardinal  had  issued 
orders  to  the  priests  to  help  no  more  fugi- 
tives, and  I  have  since  wondered  whether 
there  was  anything  in  my  papers  which 
had  turned  him  against  me  and  led  him 
to  forsake  me  after  all  he  had  promised 
to  do  for  me. 

For  perhaps  two  hours  I  sat  on  that 
staircase  musing  about  the  peculiar  turn 
176 


THE    FORGED   PASSPORT 

in  my  affairs,  when  the  front  door  opened 
and  Huyliger  ascended  the  stairs. 

"I  have  brought  you  such  of  your  be- 
longings as  I  still  had,  O'Brien,"  he  said, 
softly.  "The  rest,  as  I  told  you,  I  can- 
not give  you.  They  are  no  longer  in  my 
possession." 

I  looked  through  the  little  bunch  he 
handed  me.  It  included  my  identification 
disk,  most  of  the  papers  I  valued,  and 
perhaps  half  of  the  photographs. 

"I  don't  know  what  your  object  is  in  re- 
taining the  rest  of  my  pictures,  Huyliger," 
I  replied,  "but,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the 
ones  that  are  missing  were  only  of  sen- 
timental value  to  me,  and  you  are  wel- 
come to  them  if  you  want  them.  We'll 
call  it  a  heat." 

I  don't  know  whether  he  understood  the 
idiom,  but  he  sat  down  on  the  stairs  just 
below  me  and  cogitated  for  a  few  moments. 

"O'Brien,"  he  started,  finally,  "I'm 
sorry  things  have  gone  the  way  they  have. 
I  feel  sorry  for  you  and  I  would  really  like 
to  help  you.  I  don't  suppose  you  will  be- 
lieve me,  but  the  matter  of  the  order  which 
I  asked  you  to  sign  was  not  of  my  doing. 
However,  we  won't  go  into  that.  The 
177 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

proposition  was  made  to  you  and  you 
turned  it  down,  and  that's  an  end  of  it. 
At  the  same  time,  I  hate  to  leave  you  to 
your  own  resources  and  I'm  going  to  make 
one  more  suggestion  to  you  for  your  own 
good.  I  have  another  plan  to  get  you  into 
Holland,  and  if  you  will  go  with  me  to 
another  house  I  will  introduce  you  to  a 
man  who  I  think  will  be  in  a  position  to 
help  you." 

"How  many  millions  of  pounds  will  he 
want  for  his  trouble?"  I  asked,  sarcas- 
tically. 

"You  can  arrange  that  when  you  see 
him.  Will  you  go?" 

I  suspected  there  was  something  fishy 
about  the  proposition,  but  I  felt  that  I 
could  take  care  of  myself  and  decided  to 
see  the  thing  through.  I  knew  Huyliger 
would  not  dare  to  deliver  me  to  the  au- 
thorities because  of  the  fact  that  I  had  the 
telltale  passport,  which  would  be  his  death- 
knell  as  well  as  my  own. 

Accordingly  I  said  I  would  be  quite  will- 
ing to  go  with  him  whenever  he  was  ready, 
and  he  suggested  that  we  go  the  next 
evening. 

I  pointed  out  to  him  that  I  was  entirely 
178 


THE    FORGED^PASSPORT 

without  food  and  asked  him  whether  he 
could  not  arrange  to  bring  or  send  me 
something  to  eat  while  I  remained  in  the 
house. 

"I'm  sorry,  O'Brien,"  he  replied,  "but 
I'm  afraid  you'll  have  to  get  along  as 
best  you  can.  When  I  brought  you  your 
breakfast  this  morning  I  took  a  desperate 
chance.  If  I  had  been  discovered  by  one 
of  the  German  soldiers  entering  this  house 
with  food  in  my  possession,  I  would  not 
only  have  paid  the  penalty  myself,  but 
you  would  have  been  discovered,  too.  It 
is  too  dangerous  a  proposition.  Why 
don't  you  go  out  by  yourself  and  buy  your 
food  at  the  stores?  That  would  give  you 
confidence,  and  you'll  need  plenty  of  it 
when  you  continue  your  journey  to  the 
border." 

There  was  a  good  deal  of  truth  in  what 
he  said,  and  I  really  could  not  blame  him 
for  not  wanting  to  take  any  chances  to 
help  me,  in  view  of  the  relations  be- 
tween us. 

"Very  well,"  I  said;  "I've  gone  without 
food  for  many  hours  at  a  time  before  and 
I  suppose  I  shall  be  able  to  do  so  again. 
I  shaLL  look  for  you  to-morrow  evening." 
179 


OUTWITTING  THE   HUN 

The  next  evening  he  came  and  I  ac- 
companied him  to  another  house  not  very 
far  from  the  one  in  which  I  had  been 
staying  and  not  unlike  it  in  appearance. 
It,  too,  was  a  substantial  dwelling-house 
which  had  been  untenanted  since  the  be- 
ginning, save  perhaps  for  such  occasional 
visits  as  Huyliger  and  his  associates  made 
to  it. 

Huyliger  let  himself  in  and  conducted 
me  to  a  room  on  the  second  floor,  where  he 
introduced  me  to  two  men.  One,  I  could 
readily  see  by  the  resemblance,  was  his 
own  brother.  The  other  was  a  stranger. 

Very  briefly  they  explained  to  me  that 
they  had  procured  another  passport  for 
me — a  genuine  one — which  would  prove 
far  more  effective  in  helping  to  get  me  to 
the  frontier  than  the  counterfeit  one  they 
had  manufactured  for  me. 

I  think  I  saw  through  their  game  right 
at  the  start,  but  I  listened  patiently  to 
what  they  had  to  say. 

"Of  course,  you  will  have  to  return  to 
us  the  passport  we  gave  you  before  we 
can  give  you  the  real  one,"  said  Huyliger 's 
brother. 

"I  haven't  the  slightest  objection,"  I 
1 80 


THE   FORGED   PASSPORT 

replied,  "if  the  new  passport  is  all  you 
claim  for  it.    Will  you  let  me  see  it?" 

There  was  considerable  hesitation  on 
the  part  of  Huyliger's  brother  and  the 
other  chap  at  this. 

"Why,  I  don't  think  that's  necessary 
at  all,  Mr.  O'Brien,"  said  the  former. 
"You  give  us  the  old  passport  and  we 
will  be  very  glad  to  give  you  the  new  one 
for  it.  Isn't  that  fair  enough?" 

"It  may  be  fair  enough,  my  friends," 
I  retorted,  seeing  that  it  was  useless  to 
conceal  further  the  fact  that  I  was  fully 
aware  of  their  whole  plan  and  why  I  had 
been  brought  to  this  house.  "It  may  be 
fair  enough,  my  friends,"  I  said,  "but 
you  will  get  the  passport  that  I  have 
here,"  patting  my  side  and  indicating 
my  inside  breast  pocket,  "only  off  my 
dead  body!" 

I  suppose  the  three  of  them  could  have 
made  short  work  of  me  then  and  there  if 
they  had  wanted  to  go  the  limit,  and  no 
one  would  ever  have  been  the  wiser,  but 
I  had  gone  through  so  much  and  I  was 
feeling  so  mean  toward  the  whole  world 
just  at  that  moment  that  I  was  determined 
to  sell  my  life  as  dearly  as  possible. 
181 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

"I  have  that  passport  here,"  I  repeated, 
"and  I'm  going  to  keep  it.  If  you  gentle- 
men think  you  can  take  it  from  me,  you 
are  welcome  to  try!" 

To  tell  the  truth,  I  was  spoiling  for  a 
fight  and  I  half  wished  they  would  start 
something.  The  man  who  had  lived  in 
the  house  had  evidently  been  a  collector 
of  ancient  pottery,  for  the  walls  were 
lined  with  great  pieces  of  earthenware 
which  had  every  earmark  of  possessing 
great  value.  They  certainly  possessed 
great  weight.  I  figured  that  if  the  worst 
came  to  the  worst  that  pottery  would 
come  in  mighty  handy.  A  single  blow 
with  one  of  those  big  vases  would  put  a 
man  out  as  neatly  as  possible,  and  as 
there  was  lots  of  pottery  and  only  three 
men  I  believed  I  had  an  excellent  chance 
of  holding  my  own  in  the  combat  which 
I  had  invited. 

I  had  already  picked  out  in  my  mind 
what  I  was  going  to  use,  and  I  got  up, 
stood  with  my  back  to  the  wall,  and 
told  them  that  if  they  ever  figured  on 
getting  the  passport,  then  would  be  their 
best  chance. 

Apparently  they  realized  that  I  meant 
182 


THE    FORGED    PASSPORT 

business  and  they  immediately  began  to 
expostulate  at  the  attitude  I  was  taking. 

One  of  the  men  spoke  excellent  English. 
In  fact,  he  told  me  that  he  could  speak 
five  languages,  and  if  he  could  lie  in  the 
others  as  well  I  know  he  did  in  my  own 
tongue,  he  was  not  only  an  accomplished 
linguist,  but  a  most  versatile  liar  into  the 
bargain. 

They  argued  and  expostulated  with  me 
for  some  time. 

"My  dear  fellow,"  said  the  linguist, 
"it  is  not  that  we  want  to  deprive  you 
of  the  passport.  Good  Heavens !  if  it  will 
aid  you  in  getting  out  of  the  country,  I 
wish  you  could  have  six  just  like  it.  But 
for  our  own  protection  you  owe  it  to  us  to 
proceed  on  your  journey  as  best  you  can 
without  it,  because  as  long  as  you  have 
it  in  your  possession  you  jeopardize  our 
lives,  too.  Don't  you  think  it  is  fairer 
that  you  should  risk  your  own  safety 
rather  than  place  the  lives  of  three  in- 
nocent men  in  danger?" 

"That  may  be  as  it  is,  my  friends,"  I 

retorted,  as  I  made  my  way  to  the  door, 

"and  I  am  glad  you  realize  your  danger. 

Keep  it  in  mind,  for  in  case  any  of  you 

183 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

should  happen  to  feel  inclined  to  notify 
the  German  authorities  that  I  am  in  this 
part  of  the  country,  think  it  over  before 
you  do  so.  Remember  always  that  if  the 
Germans  get  me,  they  get  the  passport, 
too,  and  if  they  get  the  passport,  your 
lives  won't  be  worth  a  damn!  When  I 
tell  the  history  of  that  clever  little  piece 
of  pasteboard  I  will  implicate  all  three 
of  you,  and  whomever  else  is  working  with 
you,  and  as  I  am  an  officer  I  rather  think 
my  word  will  be  taken  before  yours. 
Good  night!" 

The  bluff  evidently  worked,  because  I 
was  able  to  get  out  of  the  city  without 
molestation  from  the  Germans. 

I  have  never  seen  these  men  since.  I 
hope  I  never  shall,  because  I  am  afraid 
I  might  be  tempted  to  do  something  for 
which  I  might  afterward  be  sorry. 

I  do  not  mean  to  imply  that  all  Belgians 
are  like  this.  I  had  evidently  fallen  into 
the  hands  of  a  gang  who  were  endeavoring 
to  make  capital  out  of  the  misfortunes  of 
those  who  were  referred  to  them  for  help. 
In  all  countries  there  are  bad  as  well  as 
good,  and  in  a  country  which  has  suffered 

so  much  as  poor  Belgium  it  is  no  wonder 
184 


THE    FORGED   PASSPORT 

if  some  of  the  survivors  have  lost  their 
sense  of  moral  perspective. 

I  know  the  average  poor  peasant  in 
Belgium  would  divide  his  scanty  rations 
with  a  needy  fugitive  sooner  than  a 
wealthy  Belgian  would  dole  out  a  morsel 
from  his  comparatively  well-stocked  larder. 
Perhaps  the  poor  have  less  to  lose  than 
the  rich  if  their  generosity  or  charity  is 
discovered  by  the  Huns. 

There  have  been  many  Belgians  shot 
for  helping  escaped  prisoners  and  other 
fugitives,  and  it  is  not  to  be  wondered 
at  that  they  are  willing  to  take  as  few 
chances  as  possible.  A  man  with  a  family, 
especially,  does  not  feel  justified  in  help- 
ing a  stranger  when  he  knows  that  he  and 
his  whole  family  may  be  shot  or  sent  to 
prison  for  their  pains. 

Although  I  suffered  much  from  the 
attitude  of  Huyliger  and  his  associates,  I 
suppose  I  ought  to  hold  no  grudge  against 
them  in  view  of  the  unenviable  predica- 
ment which  they  are  in  themselves. 


XIII 

FIVE  DAYS  IN  AN  EMPTY  HOUSE 

HPHE  five  days  I  spent  in  that  house 
1  seemed  to  me  like  five  years.  Dur- 
ing all  that  time  I  had  very  little  to  eat 
— less,  in  fact,  than  I  had  been  getting 
in  the  fields.  I  did  not  feel  it  so  much, 
perhaps,  because  of  the  fact  that  I  was 
no  longer  exposed  to  the  other  privations 
which  had  helped  to  make  my  condition 
so  wretched.  I  now  had  a  good  place  to 
sleep,  at  any  rate,  and  I  did  not  awake 
every  half -hour  or  so  as  I  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  do  in  the  fields  and  woods,  and, 
of  course,  my  hunger  was  not  aggravated 
by  the  physical  exertions  which  had  been 
necessary  before. 

Nevertheless,   perhaps   because   I   had 

more  time  now  to  think  of  the  hunger 

pains  which  were  gnawing  at  me  all  the 

time,  I  don't  believe  I  was  ever  so  miser- 

186 


FIVE    DAYS    IN   AN   EMPTY   HOUSE 

able  as  I  was  at  that  period  of  my  ad- 
venture. I  felt  so  mean  toward  the  world 
I  would  have  committed  murder,  I  think, 
with  very  little  provocation. 

German  soldiers  were  passing  the  house 
at  all  hours  of  the  day.  I  watched  them 
hour  after  hour  from  the  keyhole  of  the 
door — to  have  shown  myself  at  the  window 
was  out  of  the  question  because  the  house 
in  which  I  was  concealed  was  supposed  to 
be  untenanted. 

Because  of  the  fact  that  I  was  unable 
to  speak  either  Flemish  or  German  I 
could  not  go  out  and  buy  food,  although 
I  still  had  the  money  with  which  to  do 
it.  That  was  one  of  the  things  that 
galled  me — the  thought  that  I  had  the 
wherewithal  in  my  jeans  to  buy  all  the 
food  I  needed,  and  yet  no  way  of  getting 
it  without  endangering  my  liberty  and 
life. 

At  night,  however,  after  it  was  dark,  I 
would  steal  quietly  out  of  the  house  to 
see  what  I  could  pick  up  in  the  way  of 
food.  By  that  time,  of  course,  the  stores 
were  closed,  but  I  scoured  the  streets,  the 
alleys,  and  the  byways  for  scraps  of  food, 
and  occasionally  got  up  courage  enough 
187 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

to  appeal  to  Belgian  peasants  whom  I  met 
on  the  streets,  and  in  that  way  I  man- 
aged to  keep  body  and  soul  together. 

It  was  quite  apparent  to  me,  however, 
that  I  was  worse  off  in  the  city  than  I  had 
been  in  the  fields,  and  I  decided  to  get  out 
of  that  house  just  as  soon  as  I  knew 
definitely  that  Huyliger  had  made  up  his 
mind  to  do  nothing  further  for  me. 

When  I  was  not  at  the  keyhole  of  the 
door  I  spent  most  of  my  day  on  the  top 
floor  in  a  room  which  looked  out  on  the 
street.  By  keeping  well  away  from  the 
window  I  could  see  much  of  what  was  go- 
ing on  without  being  seen  myself.  In  my 
restlessness  I  used  to  walk  back  and  forth 
in  that  room,  and  I  kept  it  up  so  con- 
stantly that  I  believe  I  must  have  worn  a 
path  on  the  floor.  It  was  nine  steps  from 
one  wall  to  the  other,  and  as  I  had  little 
else  to  amuse  me  I  figured  out  one  day, 
after  I  had  been  pacing  up  and  down  for 
several  hours,  just  how  much  distance  I 
would  have  covered  on  my  way  to  Hol- 
land if  my  footsteps  had  been  taking  me 
in  that  direction  instead  of  just  up  and 
down  that  old  room.  I  was  very  much 
surprised  that  in  three  hours  I  crossed  the 

1 88 


FIVE    DAYS    IN    AN   EMPTY   HOUSE 

room  no  less  than  five  thousand  times  and 
the  distance  covered  was  between  nine  and 
ten  miles.  It  was  not  very  gratifying  to 
realize  that  after  walking  all  that  distance 
I  wasn't  a  step  nearer  my  goal  than  when 
I  started,  but  I  had  to  do  something  while 
waiting  for  Huyliger  to  help  me,  and 
pacing  up  and  down  was  a  natural  outlet 
for  my  restlessness. 

While  looking  out  of  that  top-floor  win- 
dow one  day  I  noticed  a  cat  on  a  window- 
ledge  of  the  house  across  the  street.  I 
had  a  piece  of  a  broken  mirror  which  I  had 
picked  up  in  the  house  and  I  used  to  amuse 
myself  for  an  hour  at  a  time  shining  it  in 
the  cat's  eyes  across  the  street.  At  first 
the  animal  was  annoyed  by  the  reflection 
and  would  move  away,  only  to  come  back 
a  few  moments  later.  By  and  by,  how- 
ever, it  seemed  to  get  used  to  the  glare  and 
wouldn't  budge,  no  matter  how  strong  the 
sunlight  was.  Playing  with  the  cat  in  this 
way  was  the  means  of  my  getting  food  a 
day  or  two  later — at  a  time  when  I  was  so 
famished  that  I  was  ready  to  do  almost 
anything  to  appease  my  hunger. 

It  was  about  seven  o'clock  in  the  eve- 
ning. I  was  expecting  Huyliger  at  eight, 
189 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

but  I  hadn't  the  slightest  hope  that  he 
would  bring  me  food,  as  he  had  told  me 
that  he  wouldn't  take  the  risk  of  having 
food  in  his  possession  when  calling  on  me. 
I  was  standing  at  the  window  in  such  a 
way  that  I  could  see  what  was  going  on 
in  the  street  without  being  observed  by 
those  who  passed  by,  when  I  noticed  my 
friend  the  cat  coming  down  the  steps  of 
the  opposite  house  with  something  in  his 
mouth.  Without  considering  the  risks  I 
ran,  I  opened  the  front  door,  ran  down 
the  steps  and  across  the  street,  and 
pounced  on  the  cat  before  it  could  get 
away  with  its  supper,  for  that,  as  I  had 
imagined,  was  what  I  had  seen  in  its 
mouth.  It  turned  out  to  be  a  piece 
of  stewed  rabbit,  which  I  confiscated 
eagerly  and  took  back  with  me  to  the 
house. 

Perhaps  I  felt  a  little  sorry  for  the  cat, 
but  I  certainly  had  no  other  qualms  about 
eating  the  animal's  dinner.  I  was  much 
too  hungry  to  dwell  upon  niceties,  and  a 
piece  of  stewed  rabbit  was  certainly  too 
good  for  a  cat  to  eat  when  a  man  was 
starving.  I  ate  it  and  enjoyed  it,  and  the 
incident  suggested  to  me  a  way  in  which 
190 


FIVE    DAYS    IN   AN    EMPTY   HOUSE 

I  might  possibly  obtain  food  again  when 
all  other  avenues  failed. 

From  my  place  of  concealment  I  fre- 
quently saw  huge  carts  being  pushed 
through  the  streets  gathering  potato  peel- 
ings, refuse  of  cabbage,  and  similar  food 
remnants  which,  in  America,  are  considered 
garbage  and  destroyed.  In  Belgium  they 
were  using  this  "garbage"  to  make  their 
bread  out  of,  and  while  the  idea  may 
sound  revolting  to  us,  the  fact  is  that  the 
Germans  have  brought  these  things  down 
to  such  a  science  that  the  bread  they  make 
in  this  way  is  really  very  good  to  eat.  I 
know  it  would  have  been  like  cake  to  me 
when  I  was  in  need  of  food ;  indeed,  I  would 
have  eaten  the  "garbage"  direct,  let  alone 
the  bread. 

Although,  as  I  have  said,  I  suffered 
greatly  from  hunger  while  occupying  this 
house,  there  were  one  or  two  things  I  ob- 
served through  the  keyhole  or  from  the 
windows  which  made  me  laugh,  and  some 
of  the  incidents  that  occurred  during  my 
voluntary  imprisonment  were  really  rather 
funny. 

From  the  keyhole  I  could  see,  for  in- 
stance, a  shop  window  on  the  other  side 
13  191 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

of  the  street,  several  houses  down  the 
block.  All  day  long  German  soldiers 
would  be  passing  in  front  of  the  house,  and 
I  noticed  that  practically  every  one  of  them 
would  stop  in  front  of  this  store  window 
and  look  in.  Occasionally  a  soldier  on 
duty  bent  would  hurry  past,  but  I  think 
nine  out  of  ten  of  them  were  sufficiently  in- 
terested to  spend  at  least  a  minute,  and 
some  of  them  three  or  four  minutes,  gazing 
at  whatever  was  being  exhibited  in  that 
window,  although  I  noticed  that  it  failed 
to  attract  the  Belgians. 

I  have  a  considerable  streak  of  curiosity 
in  me  and  I  couldn't  help  wondering  what 
it  could  be  in  that  window  which  almost 
without  exception  seemed  to  interest  Ger- 
man soldiers,  but  failed  to  hold  the  Bel- 
gians, and  after  conjuring  my  brains  for 
a  while  on  the  problem  I  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  the  shop  must  have  been  a 
book-shop  and  the  window  contained  Ger- 
man magazines,  which,  naturally  enough, 
would  be  of  the  greatest  interest  to  the 
Germans,  but  of  none  to  the  Belgians. 

At  any  rate,  I  resolved  that  as  soon  as 
night  came  I  would  go  out  and  investigate 
the  window.  When  I  got  the  answer  I 
192 


FIVE    DAYS    IN   AN   EMPTY   HOUSE 

laughed  so  loud  that  I  was  afraid  for  the 
moment  I  must  have  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  the  neighbors,  but  I  couldn't  help 
it.  The  window  was  filled  with  huge 
quantities  of  sausage.  The  store  was  a 
butcher-shop,  and  one  of  the  principal 
things  they  sold,  apparently,  was  sausage. 
The  display  they  made,  although  it  con- 
sisted merely  of  quantities  of  sausage  piled 
in  the  windows,  certainly  had  plenty  of 
"pulling"  power.  It  "pulled"  nine  Ger- 
mans out  of  ten  out  of  their  course  and  in- 
directly it  "pulled"  me  right  across  the 
street.  The  idea  of  those  Germans  being 
so  interested  in  that  window  display  as  to 
stand  in  front  of  the  window  for  two,  three, 
or  four  minutes  at  a  time,  however,  cer- 
tainly seemed  funny  to  me,  and  when  I  got 
back  to  the  house  I  sat  at  the  keyhole 
again  and  found  just  as  much  interest  as 
before  in  watching  the  Germans  stop  in 
their  tracks  when  they  reached  the  window, 
even  though  I  was  now  aware  what  the 
attraction  was. 

One   of  my  chief  occupations  during 

those  days  was  catching  flies.    I  would 

catch  a  fly,  put  him  in  a  spider's  web — 

there  were  plenty  of  them  in  the  old  house 

193 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

— and  sit  down  to  wait  for  the  spider  to 
come  and  get  him.  But  always  I  pictured 
myself  in  the  same  predicament  and 
rescued  the  fly  just  as  the  spider  was  about 
to  grab  him.  Several  times  when  things 
were  dull  I  was  tempted  to  see  the 
tragedy  through,  but  perhaps  the  same 
Providence  that  guided  me  safely  through 
all  perils  was  guarding,  too,  the  destiny 
of  those  flies,  for  I  always  weakened  and 
the  flies  never  did  suffer  from  my  lust  for 
amusement. 

The  house  was  well  supplied  with  books 
— in  fact,  one  of  the  choicest  libraries  I 
think  I  ever  saw — but  they  were  all 
written  either  in  Flemish  or  in  French.  I 
could  read  no  Flemish  and  very  little 
French.  I  might  have  made  a  little  head- 
way with  the  latter,  but  the  books  all 
seemed  too  deep  for  me  and  I  gave  it  up. 
There  was  one  thing,  though,  that  I  did 
read  and  re-read  from  beginning  to  end — 
that  was  a  New  York  Herald  which  must 
have  arrived  just  about  the  time  war  was 
declared.  Several  things  in  there  inter- 
ested me,  and  particularly  the  baseball 
scores,  which  I  studied  with  as  much 

care  as  a  real  fan  possibly  would  an  up-to- 
194 


FIVE    DAYS    IN   AN    EMPTY    HOUSE 

date  score.  I  couldn't  refrain  from  laugh- 
ing when  I  came  to  an  account  of  Zimmer- 
man (of  the  Cubs)  being  benched  for  some 
spat  with  the  umpire,  and  it  afforded  me 
just  as  much  interest  three  years  after  it 
had  happened — perhaps  more — than  some 
current  item  of  worldwide  interest  had  at 
the  time. 

I  rummaged  the  house  many  times  from 
cellar  to  garret  in  my  search  for  something 
to  eat,  but  the  harvest  of  three  years  of 
war  had  made  any  success  along  that 
line  impossible.  I  was  like  the  man  out 
on  the  ocean  in  a  boat  and  thirsty,  with 
water  everywhere,  but  not  a  drop  to 
drink. 

I  was  tempted  while  in  this  city  to  go 
to  church  one  Sunday,  but  my  better 
judgment  told  me  it  would  be  a  useless 
risk.  Of  course  some  one  would  surely 
say  something  to  me,  and  I  didn't  know 
how  many  Germans  would  be  there,  or 
what  might  happen,  so  I  gave  up  that  idea. 

During  all  the  time  I  was  concealed  in 
this  house  I  saw  but  one  automobile,  and 
that  was  a  German  staff  officer's.  That 
same  afternoon  I  had  one  of  the  frights 
of  my  young  life. 

195 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

I  had  been  gazing  out  of  the  keyhole  as 
usual  when  I  heard  coming  down  the  street 
the  measured  tread  of  German  soldiers. 
It  didn't  sound  like  very  many,  but  there 
was  no  doubt  in  my  mind  that  German 
soldiers  were  marching  down  the  street.  I 
went  up-stairs  and  peeked  through  the 
window,  and  sure  enough  a  squad  of  Ger- 
man infantry  was  coming  down  the  street, 
accompanying  a  military  truck.  I  hadn't 
the  slightest  idea  that  they  were  coming 
after  me,  but  still  the  possibilities  of  the 
situation  gave  me  more  or  less  alarm,  and 
I  considered  how  I  could  make  my  escape 
if  by  any  chance  I  was  the  man  they  were 
after.  The  idea  of  hiding  in  the  wine- 
cellar  appealed  to  me  as  the  most  prac- 
tical; there  must  have  been  plenty  of 
places  among  the  wine  kegs  and  cases 
where  a  man  could  conceal  himself,  but, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  did  not  believe  that 
any  such  contingency  would  arise. 

The  marching  soldiers  came  nearer.  I 
could  hear  them  at  the  next  house.  In  a 
moment  I  would  see  them  pass  the  key- 
hole through  which  I  was  looking. 

"Halt!" 

At  the  word  of  command  shouted  by  a 
196 


FIVE    DAYS    IN   AN    EMPTY   HOUSE 

junior  officer  the  squad  came  to  attention 
right  in  front  of  the  house. 

I  waited  no  longer.  Running  down  the 
stairs,  I  flew  down  into  the  wine-cellar, 
and  although  it  was  almost  pitch  dark — 
the  only  light  coming  from  a  grating  which 
led  to  the  backyard — I  soon  found  a  sat- 
isfactory hiding-place  in  the  extreme  rear 
of  the  cellar.  I  had  the  presence  of  mind 
to  leave  the  door  of  the  wine-cellar  ajar, 
figuring  that  if  the  soldiers  found  a  closed 
door  they  would  be  more  apt  to  search 
for  a  fugitive  behind  it  than  if  the  door 
were  open. 

My  decision  to  get  away  from  the  front 
door  had  been  made  and  carried  out  none 
too  soon,  for  I  had  only  just  located  my- 
self between  two  big  wine-cases  when  I 
heard  the  tramp  of  soldiers'  feet  marching 
up  the  front  steps,  a  crash  at  the  front 
door,  a  few  hasty  words  of  command  which 
I  did  not  understand,  and  then  the  noise  of 
scurrying  feet  from  room  to  room  and  such 
a  banging  and  hammering  and  smashing 
and  crashing  that  I  could  not  make  out 
what  was  going  on. 

If  Huyliger  had  revealed  my  hiding- 
place  to  the  Huns,  as  I  was  now  confident 
197 


OUTWITTING  THE   HUN 

he  had,  I  felt  that  there  was  little  prospect 
of  their  overlooking  me.  They  would 
search  the  house  from  top  to  bottom  and, 
if  necessary,  raze  it  to  the  ground  before 
they  would  give  up  the  search.  To  es- 
cape from  the  house  through  the  backyard 
through  the  iron  grating,  which  I  had 
no  doubt  I  could  force,  seemed  to  be  a 
logical  thing  to  do,  but  the  chances  were 
that  the  Huns  had  thrown  a  cordon  around 
the  entire  block  before  the  squad  was  sent 
to  the  house.  The  Germans  do  these 
things  in  an  efficient  manner  always.  They 
take  nothing  for  granted. 

My  one  chance  seemed  to  be  to  stand 
pat  in  the  hope  that  the  officer  in  charge 
might  possibly  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  he  had  arrived  at  the  house  too  late 
— that  the  bird  had  flown. 

My  position  in  that  wine-cellar  was 
anything  but  a  comfortable  one.  Rats 
and  mice  were  scurrying  across  the  floor, 
and  the  smashing  and  crashing  going  on 
overhead  was  anything  but  promising. 
Evidently  those  soldiers  imagined  that  I 
might  be  hiding  in  the  walls,  for  it  sounded 
as  though  they  were  tearing  off  the  wains- 
coting, the  picture-molding,  and,  in  fact, 
198 


FIVE    DAYS    IN   AN    EMPTY    HOUSE 

everything  that  they  could  tear  or  pull 
apart. 

Before  very  long  they  would  finish  their 
search  up-stairs  and  would  come  down  to 
the  basement.  What  they  would  do  when 
they  discovered  the  wine  I  had  no  idea. 
Perhaps  they  would  let  themselves  loose 
on  it  and  give  me  my  chance.  With  a 
bottle  of  wine  in  each  hand  I  figured  I 
could  put  up  a  good  fight  in  the  dark, 
especially  as  I  was  becoming  more  and 
more  accustomed  to  it  and  could  begin 
to  distinguish  things  here  and  there, 
whereas  they  would  be  as  blind  as  bats 
in  the  sun  when  they  entered  the  pitchy 
darkness  of  the  cellar. 

Perhaps  it  was  twenty  minutes  before  I 
heard  what  sounded  like  my  death-knell 
to  me;  the  soldiers  were  coming  down  the 
cellar  steps.  I  clutched  a  wine  bottle  in 
each  hand  and  waited  with  bated  breath. 

Tramp!  Tramp!  Tramp!  In  a  mo- 
ment they  would  be  in  the  cellar  proper. 
I  could  almost  hear  my  heart  beating. 
The  mice  scurried  across  the  floor  by  the 
scores,  frightened,  no  doubt,  by  the  vibra- 
tion and  noise  made  by  the  descending 

soldiers.    Some  of  the  creatures  ran  across 
199 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

me  where  I  stood  between  the  two  wine- 
cases,  but  I  was  too  much  interested  in 
bigger  game  to  pay  attention  to  mice. 

Tramp!  Tramp!  "Halt!"  Again  an 
order  was  given  in  German,  and  although 
I  did  not  understand  it,  I  am  willing  to 
bless  every  word  of  it,  because  it  resulted 
in  the  soldiers  turning  right  about  face, 
marching  up  the  stairs  again,  through 
the  hall,  and  out  of  the  front  door  and 
away! 

I  could  hardly  believe  my  ears.  It 
seemed  almost  too  good  to  be  true  that 
they  could  have  given  up  the  search  just 
as  they  were  about  to  come  on  their 
quarry,  but  unless  my  ears  deceived  me 
that  was  what  they  had  done. 

The  possibility  that  the  whole  thing 
might  be  a  German  ruse  did  not  escape 
me,  and  I  remained  in  the  cellar  for  nearly 
an  hour  after  they  had  apparently  de- 
parted before  I  ventured  to  move,  lis- 
tening intently  in  the  mean  while  for  the 
slightest  sound  which  would  reveal  the 
presence  of  a  sentry  up-stairs. 

Not  hearing  a  sound,  I  began  to  feel 
that  they  had  indeed  given  up  the  hunt, 
for  I  did  not  believe  that  a  German  officer 
200 


FIVE    DAYS    IN   AN    EMPTY   HOUSE 

would  be  so  considerate  of  his  men  as  to 
try  to  trap  me  rather  than  carry  the  cellar 
by  force  if  they  had  the  slightest  idea  that 
I  was  there. 

I  took  off  my  shoes  and  crept  softly  and 
slowly  to  the  cellar  steps,  and  then  step 
by  step,  placing  my  weight  down  gradually 
so  as  to  prevent  the  steps  from  creaking, 
I  climbed  to  the  top.  The  sight  that  met 
my  eyes  as  I  glanced  into  the  kitchen  told 
me  the  whole  story.  The  water  faucets 
had  been  ripped  from  the  sinks,  the  water 
pipes  having  been  torn  from  the  walls. 
Everything  of  brass  or  copper  had  been 
torn  off,  and  gas  fixtures,  cooking  utensils, 
and  everything  else  which  contain  even 
only  a  small  proportion  of  the  metals  the 
Germans  so  badly  needed  had  been  taken 
from  the  kitchen.  I  walked  up-stairs  now 
with  more  confidence,  feeling  tolerably  as- 
sured that  the  soldiers  hadn't  been  after 
me  at  all,  but  had  been  merely  collecting 
metals  and  other  materials  which  they  ex- 
pected an  elaborate  dwelling-house  like  the 
one  in  which  I  was  concealed  to  yield. 

Later  I  heard  that  the  Germans  have 
taken  practically  every  ounce  of  brass, 
copper,  and  wool  they  could  lay  their  hands 

2OI 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

on  in  Belgium.  Even  the  brass  out  of 
pianos  has  been  ruthlessly  removed,  the 
serious  damage  done  to  valuable  property 
by  the  removal  of  only  an  insignificant 
proportion  of  metal  never  being  taken  into 
consideration.  I  learned,  too,  that  all  dogs 
over  fourteen  inches  high  had  been  seized 
by  the  Germans.  This  furnished  lots  of 
speculation  among  the  Belgians  as  to  what 
use  the  Germans  were  putting  the  animals 
to,  the  general  impression  apparently  being 
that  they  were  being  used  for  food. 

This,  however,  seemed  much  less  likely 
to  me  than  that  they  were  being  employed 
as  despatch  dogs  in  the  trenches,  the  same 
as  we  use  them  on  our  side  of  the  line. 
They  might  possibly  kill  the  dogs  and  use 
their  skins  for  leather  and  their  carcasses 
for  tallow,  but  I  feel  quite  sure  that  the 
Huns  are  by  no  means  so  short  of  food 
that  they  have  to  eat  dogs  yet  awhile. 

Indeed,  I  want  to  repeat  here  what  I 
have  mentioned  before :  if  any  one  has  the 
idea  that  this  war  can  be  won  by  starving 
the  Huns,  he  hasn't  the  slightest  idea  how 
well  provided  the  Germans  are  in  that  re- 
spect. They  have  considered  their  food 
needs  in  connection  with  their  resources 

202 


FIVE    DAYS    IN    AN    EMPTY    HOUSE 

for  several  years  to  come,  and  they  have 
gone  at  it  in  such  a  methodical,  systematic 
way,  taking  into  consideration  every  pos- 
sible contingency,  that,  provided  there  is 
not  an  absolute  crop  failure,  there  isn't  the 
slightest  doubt  in  my  mind  that  they  can 
last  for  years,  and  the  worst  of  it  is  they 
are  quite  cocksure  about  it. 

It  is  true  that  the  German  soldiers  want 
peace.  As  I  watched  them  through  the 
keyhole  in  the  door  I  thought  how  unfa- 
vorably they  compared  with  our  men.  They 
marched  along  the  street  without  laughter, 
without  joking,  without  singing.  It  was 
quite  apparent  that  the  war  is  telling  on 
them.  I  don't  believe  I  saw  a  single  Ger- 
man soldier  who  didn't  look  as  if  he  had 
lost  his  best  friend — and  he  probably  had. 

At  the  same  time,  there  is  a  big  difference 
— certainly  a  difference  of  several  years — 
between  wishing  the  war  was  over  and  giv- 
ing up,  and  I  don't  believe  the  German 
rank  and  file  any  more  than  their  leaders 
have  the  slightest  idea  at  this  time  of 
giving  up  at  all. 

But  to  return  to  my  experiences  while 
concealed  in  the  house.  After  the  visit  of 

the  soldiers,  which  left  the  house  in  a 
203 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

wretched  condition,  I  decided  that  I  would 
continue  my  journey  toward  the  frontier, 
particularly  as  I  had  got  all  I  could  out  of 
Huyliger,  or  rather  he  had  got  all  he  was 
going  to  get  out  of  me. 

During  my  concealment  in  the  house  I 
made  various  sorties  into  the  city  at  night, 
and  I  was  beginning  to  feel  more  comfort- 
able, even  when  German  soldiers  were 
about.  Through  the  keyhole  I  had  studied 
very  closely  the  gait  of  the  Belgians,  the 
slovenly  droop  that  characterized  most  of 
them,  and  their  general  appearance,  and  I 
felt  that  in  my  own  dirty  and  unshaven 
condition  I  must  have  looked  as  much  like 
the  average  poor  Belgian  as  a  man  could. 
The  only  thing  that  was  against  me  was  my 
height.  I  was  several  inches  taller  than 
even  the  tallest  Belgians.  I  had  often 
thought  that  red  hair  would  have  gone 
well  with  my  name,  but  now,  of  course,  I 
was  mighty  glad  that  I  was  not  so  endowed, 
for  red-haired  Belgians  are  about  as  rare 
as  German  charity. 

There  are  many,   no  doubt,  who  will 

wonder  why  I  did  not  get  more  help  than 

I  did  at  this  time.     It  is  easily  answered. 

When  a  man  is  in  hourly  fear  of  his  life 

204 


FIVE    DAYS    IN    AN    EMPTY    HOUSE 

and  the  country  is  full  of  spies,  as  Belgium 
certainly  was,  he  is  not  going  to  help  just 
any  one  that  comes  along  seeking  aid. 

One  of  the  Germans'  most  successful 
ways  of  trapping  the  Belgians  has  been  to 
pose  as  an  English  or  French  prisoner  who 
has  escaped;  appeal  to  them  for  aid;  im- 
plicate as  many  as  possible,  and  then  turn 
the  whole  German  police  force  loose  on 
them. 

As  I  look  back  now  on  those  days  I 
think  it  remarkable  that  I  received  as 
much  help  as  I  did,  but  when  people  are 
starving  under  the  conditions  now  forced 
upon  those  unfortunate  people  it  is  a 
great  temptation  to  surrender  these  es- 
caped prisoners  to  German  authorities 
and  receive  the  handsome  rewards  of- 
fered for  them — or  for  alien  spies,  as  I  was 
classed  at  that  time. 

The  passport  which  I  had  described  me  as 
a  Spanish  sailor,  but  I  was  very  dubious 
about  its  value.  If  I  could  have  spoken 
Spanish  fluently  it  might  have  been  worth 
something  to  me,  but  the  few  words  I 
knew  of  the  language  would  not  have  car- 
ried me  very  far  if  I  had  been  confronted 
with  a  Spanish  interpreter.  I  decided  to 
205 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

use  the  passport  only  as  a  last  resort, 
preferring  to  act  the  part  of  a  deaf  and 
dumb  Belgian  peasant  as  far  as  it  would 
carry  me. 

Before  I  finally  left  the  house  I  had  a 
remarkable  experience  which  I  shall  re- 
member as  long  as  I  live. 


XIV 

A  NIGHT  OF  DISSIPATION 

DURING  the  first  two  days  I  spent 
with  Huyliger  after  I  had  first  ar- 
rived in  the  big  city  he  had  told  me, 
among  other  things,  of  a  moving-picture 
show  in  town  which  he  said  I  might  have 
a  chance  to  see  while  there. 

"  It  is  free  every  night  in  the  week  except 
Saturdays  and  Sundays,"  he  said,  "and 
once  you  are  inside  you  would  not  be; 
apt  to  be  bothered  by  any  one  except 
when  they  come  to  take  your  order  for 
something  to  drink.  While  there  is  no 
admission,  patrons  are  expected  to  eat  or 
drink  while  enjoying  the  pictures." 

A  day  or  two  later,  while  walking  the 
streets  at  night  in  search  of  food,  I  had 
passed  this  place,  and  was  very  much 
tempted  to  go  in  and  spend  a  few  hours, 
particularly  as  it  would  perhaps  give  me 

14  207 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

an  opportunity  to  buy  something  to  eat, 
although  I  was  at  a  loss  to  know  how  I 
was  going  to  ask  for  what  I  wanted. 

While  trying  to  make  up  my  mind 
whether  it  was  safe  for  me  to  go  in,  I 
walked  half  a  block  past  the  place,  and 
when  I  turned  back  again  and  reached  the 
entrance  with  my  mind  made  up  that  I 
would  take  the  chance  I  ran  full  tilt  into 
a  German  officer  who  was  just  coming  out! 

That  settled  all  my  hankerings  for 
moving  pictures  that  night.  "Where  you 
came  from,  my  friend,"  I  figured,  "there 
must  be  more  like  you!  I  guess  it  is  a 
good  night  for  walking." 

The  next  day,  however,  in  recalling  the 
incident  of  the  evening  before,  it  seemed 
to  me  that  I  had  been  rather  foolish. 
What  I  needed  more  than  anything  at 
that  time  was  confidence.  Before  I  could 
get  to  the  frontier  I  would  have  to  con- 
front German  soldiers  many  times,  be- 
cause there  were  more  of  them  between 
this  city  and  Holland  than  in  any  section 
of  the  country  through  which  I  had  so 
far  traveled.  Safety  in  these  contingen- 
cies would  depend  largely  upon  the  calm- 
ness I  displayed.  It  wouldn't  do  to  get 
208 


A   NIGHT   OF    DISSIPATION 

all  excited  at  the  mere  sight  of  a  spiked 
helmet.  The  Belgians,  I  had  noticed, 
while  careful  to  obey  the  orders  of  the 
Huns,  showed  no  particular  fear  of  them, 
and  it  seemed  to  me  the  sooner  I  culti- 
vated the  same  feeling  of  indifference  the 
better  I  would  be  able  to  carry  off  the 
part  I  was  playing. 

For  this  reason,  I  made  up  my  mind 
then  and  there  that,  officers  or  no  officers, 
I  would  go  to  that  show  that  night  and 
sit  it  through,  no  matter  what  happened. 
While  people  may  think  that  I  had  de- 
cided unwisely  because  of  the  unnecessary 
risk  involved  in  the  adventure,  it  occurred 
to  me  that  perhaps,  after  all,  that  theater 
was  about  one  of  the  safest  places  I  could 
attend,  because  that  was  about  the  last 
place  Germans  would  expect  to  find  a 
fugitive  English  officer  in,  even  if  they 
were  searching  for  one. 

As  soon  as  evening  came,  therefore,  I 
decided  to  go  to  the  theater.  I  fixed 
myself  up  as  well  as  possible.  I  had  on  a 
fairly  decent  pair  of  trousers  which  Huy- 
liger  had  given  me  and  I  used  a  clean 
handkerchief  as  a  collar. 

With  my  hair  brushed  up  and  my  beard 
209 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

trimmed  as  neatly  as  possible  with  a  pair 
of  rusty  scissors  which  I  had  found  in 
the  house,  while  my  appearance  was  not 
exactly  that  of  a  Beau  Brurnrnel,  I  don't 
think  I  looked  much  worse  than  the  average 
Belgian.  In  these  days,  the  average  Bel- 
gian is  very  poorly  dressed  at  best. 

I  can't  say  I  had  no  misgivings  as  I 
made  my  way  to  the  theater;  certainly 
I  was  going  there  more  for  discipline  than 
pleasure,  but  I  had  made  up  my  mind 
and  I  was  going  to  see  it  through. 

The  entrance  to  the  theater  or  beer- 
garden — for  it  was  as  much  one  as  the 
other — was  on  the  side  of  the  building, 
and  was  reached  by  way  of  an  alley 
which  ran  along  the  side.  Near  the  door 
was  a  ticket-seller's  booth,  but  as  this  was 
one  of  the  free  nights  there  was  no  one 
in  the  booth. 

I  marched  slowly  down  the  alley,  imi- 
tating as  best  I  could  the  indifferent  gait 
of  the  Belgians,  and  when  I  entered  the 
theater  I  endeavored  to  act  as  though  I 
had  been  there  many  times  before.  A 
hasty  survey  of  the  layout  of  the  place 
was  sufficient  to  enable  me  to  select  my 
seat.  It  was  early  and  there  were  not 

2IO 


A   NIGHT   OF   DISSIPATION 

more  than  half  a  dozen  people  in  the  place 
at  that  time,  so  that  I  had  my  choice. 

There  was  a  raised  platform,  perhaps  two 
feet  high,  all  round  the  walls  of  the  place, 
except  at  the  end  where  the  stage  was 
located.  On  this  platform  tables  were 
arranged,  and  there  were  tables  on  the 
floor  proper  as  well. 

I  decided  promptly  that  the  safest  place 
for  me  was  as  far  back  as  possible  where 
I  would  not  be  in  the  line  of  vision  of 
others  in  back  of  me.  Accordingly,  I 
slouched  over  to  a  table  on  the  platform 
directly  opposite  the  stage  and  I  took  the 
seat  against  the  wall.  The  whole  place 
was  now  in  front  of  me.  I  could  see 
everything  that  was  going  on  and  every 
one  who  came  in,  but  no  one,  except  those 
who  sat  at  my  own  table,  would  notice 
me  unless  they  deliberately  turned  around 
to  look. 

The  place  began  to  fill  up  rapidly. 
Every  second  person  who  came  in  the  door 
seemed  to  me  to  be  a  German  soldier, 
but  when  they  were  seated  at  the  tables 
and  I  got  a  chance  later  on  to  make  a 
rough  count,  I  found  that  in  all  there  were 
not  more  than  a  hundred  soldiers  in  the 

211 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

place  and  there  must  have  been  several 
hundred  civilians. 

The  first  people  to  sit  at  my  table  were 
a  Belgian  and  his  wife.  The  Belgian  sat 
next  to  me  and  his  wife  next  to  him.  I 
was  hoping  that  other  civilians  would  oc- 
cupy the  remaining  two  seats  at  my  table 
because  I  did  not  relish  the  idea  of  having 
to  sit  through  the  show  with  German 
soldiers  within  a  few  feet  of  me.  That 
would  certainly  have  spoiled  my  pleasure 
for  the  evening. 

Every  uniform  that  came  in  the  door 
gave  me  cause  to  worry  until  I  was  sure 
it  was  not  coming  in  my  direction.  I 
don't  suppose  there  was  a  single  soldier 
who  came  in  the  door  whom  I  didn't  follow 
to  his  seat — with  my  eyes. 

Just  before  they  lowered  the  lights  two 
German  officers  came  in  the  door.  They 
stood  there  for  a  moment  looking  the 
place  over.  Then  they  made  a  bee-line 
in  my  direction,  and  I  must  confess  my 
heart  started  to  beat  a  little  faster.  I 
hoped  that  they  would  find  another  seat 
before  they  came  to  my  vicinity,  but  they 
were  getting  nearer  and  nearer,  and  I 
realized  with  a  sickening  sensation  that 

212 


A   NIGHT   OF    DISSIPATION 

they  were  headed  directly  for  the  two 
seats  at  my  table,  and  that  was  indeed 
the  case. 

These  two  seats  were  in  front  of  the  table, 
facing  the  stage,  and  except  when  they 
would  be  eating  or  drinking  their  backs 
were  toward  me,  and  there  was  consider- 
able consolation  in  that.  From  my  seat 
I  could  have  reached  right  over  and 
touched  one  of  them  on  his  bald  head. 
It  would  have  been  more  than  a  touch, 
I  am  afraid,  if  I  could  have  got  away  with 
it  safely. 

As  the  officers  seated  themselves  a  waiter 
came  to  us  with  a  printed  bill  of  fare  and 
a  program.  Fortunately,  he  waited  on 
the  others  first,  and  I  listened  intently 
to  their  orders.  The  officers  ordered  some 
light  wine,  but  my  Belgian  neighbor  or- 
dered "Bock"  for  himself  and  his  wife, 
which  was  what  I  had  decided  to  order, 
anyway,  as  that  was  the  only  thing  I 
could  say.  Heaven  knows  I  would  far 
rather  have  ordered  something  to  eat, 
but  the  bill  of  fare  meant  nothing  to  me, 
and  I  was  afraid  to  take  a  chance  at  the 
pronunciation  of  the  dishes  it  set  forth. 

There  were  a  number  of  drinks  listed 
213 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

which  I  suppose  I  might  safely  enough 
have  ordered.  For  instance,  I  noticed 
"Lemon  Squash,  1.50,"  "Ginger  Beer,  i-," 
"Sparkling  Dry  Ginger  Ale,  I-,"  "Ap- 
olHnaris,  i-,"  and  "Schweppes  Soda,  0.80," 
but  it  occurred  to  me  that  the  mere  fact 
that  I  selected  something  that  was  listed 
in  English  might  attract  attention  to  me 
and  something  in  my  pronunciation  might 
give  further  cause  for  suspicion. 

It  seemed  better  to  parrot  the  Belgian 
and  order  "Bock,"  and  that  was  what  I 
decided  to  do. 

One  item  on  the  bill  of  fare  tantalized 
me  considerably.  Although  it  was  listed 
among  the  "Prizzen  der  dranken,"  which 
I  took  to  mean  "Prices  of  drinks,"  it 
sounded  very  much  to  me  like  something 
to  eat,  and  Heaven  knows  I  would  rather 
have  had  one  honest  mouthful  of  food  than 
all  the  drinks  in  the  world.  The  item  I 
refer  to  was  "Dubbel  Gersten  de  Flesch 
(Michaux)."  A  double  portion  of  anything 
would  have  been  mighty  welcome  to  me, 
but  I  would  have  been  quite  contented 
with  a  single  "Gersten" — whatever  that 
might  happen  to  be — if  I  had  only  had 
the  courage  to  ask  for  it. 
214 


A   NIGHT   OF   DISSIPATION 

To  keep  myself  as  composed  as  possible, 
I  devoted  a  lot  of  attention  to  that  bill 
of  fare,  and  I  think  by  the  time  the  waiter 
came  around  I  almost  knew  it  by  heart. 
One  drink  that  almost  made  me  laugh 
out  loud  was  listed  as  "Lemonades  Ga- 
zeuses,"  but  I  might  just  as  well  have  in- 
troduced myself  to  the  German  officers 
by  my  right  name  and  rank  as  to  have  at- 
tempted to  pronounce  it. 

When  the  waiter  came  to  me,  therefore, 
I  said  "Bock"  as  casually  as  I  could,  and 
felt  somewhat  relieved  that  I  got  through 
this  part  of  the  ordeal  so  easily. 

While  the  waiter  was  away  I  had  a 
chance  to  examine  the  bill  of  fare,  and  I 
observed  that  a  glass  of  beer  cost  eighty 
centimes.  The  smallest  change  I  had  was 
a  two-mark  paper  bill. 

Apparently  the  German  officers  were 
similarly  fixed,  and  when  they  offered  their 
bill  to  the  waiter  he  handed  it  back  to 
them  with  a  remark  which  I  took  to  mean 
that  he  couldn't  make  change. 

Right  there  I  was  in  a  quandary.     To 

offer  him  my  bill  after  he  had  just  told  the 

officers  he  didn't  have  change  would  have 

seemed  strange,  and  yet  I  couldn't  explain 

215 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

to  him  that  I  was  in  the  same  boat  and  he 
would  have  to  come  to  me  again  later. 
The  only  thing  to  do,  therefore,  was  to 
offer  him  the  bill  as  though  I  hadn't  heard 
or  noticed  what  had  happened  with  the 
Germans,  and  I  did  so.  He  said  the  same 
thing  to  me  as  he  had  said  to  the  officers, 
perhaps  a  little  more  sharply,  and  gave 
me  back  the  bill.  Later  on  he  returned 
to  the  table  with  a  handful  of  change  and 
we  closed  the  transaction.  I  gave  him 
twenty-five  centimes  as  a  tip — I  had  never 
yet  been  in  a  place  where  it  was  necessary 
to  talk  to  do  that. 

During  my  first  half -hour  in  that  theater, 
to  say  I  was  on  pins  and  needles  is  to  ex- 
press my  feelings  mildly.  The  truth  of 
the  matter  is  I  was  never  so  uneasy  in  my 
life.  Every  minute  seemed  like  an  hour, 
and  I  was  on  the  point  of  getting  up  and 
leaving  a  dozen  times.  There  were  alto- 
gether too  many  soldiers  in  the  place  to  suit 
me,  and  when  the  German  officers  seated 
themselves  right  at  my  table  I  thought 
that  was  about  all  I  could  stand.  As  it 
was,  however,  the  lights  went  out  shortly 
afterward  and  in  the  dark  I  felt  consider- 
ably easier. 

216 


A   NIGHT   OF    DISSIPATION 

After  the  first  picture,  when  the  lights 
went  up  again,  I  had  regained  my  com- 
posure considerably  and  I  took  advantage 
of  the  opportunity  to  study  the  various 
types  of  people  in  the  place. 

From  my  seat  I  had  a  splendid  chance  to 
see  them  all.  At  one  table  there  was  a 
German  medical  corps  officer  with  three 
Red  Cross  nurses.  That  was  the  only 
time  I  had  ever  seen  a  German  nurse,  for 
when  I  was  in  the  hospital  I  had  seen  only 
men  orderlies.  Nurses  don't  work  so  near 
the  first-line  trenches. 

The  German  soldiers  at  the  different 
tables  were  very  quiet  and  orderly.  They 
drank  Bock  beer  and  conversed  among 
themselves,  but  there  was  no  hilarity  or 
rough-housing  of  any  kind. 

As  I  sat  there,  within  an  arm's  reach  of 
those  German  officers  and  realized  what 
they  would  have  given  to  know  what  a 
chance  they  had  to  capture  an  escaped 
British  officer,  I  could  hardly  help  smiling 
to  myself,  but  when  I  thought  of  the  big 
risk  I  was  taking,  more  or  less  unneces- 
sarily, I  began  to  wonder  whether  I  had 
not  acted  foolishly  in  undertaking  it. 

Nevertheless,  the  evening  passed  off  un- 
217 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

eventfully,  and  when  the  show  was  over  I 
mixed  with  the  crowd  and  disappeared, 
feeling  very  proud  of  myself  and  with  a 
good  deal  more  confidence  than  I  had  en- 
joyed at  the  start. 

I  had  passed  a  night  which  will  live  in 
my  life  as  long  as  I  live.  The  bill  of  fare, 
program,  and  a  "throw-away"  bill  adver- 
tising the  name  of  the  attraction  which 
was  to  be  presented  the  following  week, 
which  was  handed  to  me  as  I  came  out,  I 
still  have  and  they  are  among  the  most 
valued  souvenirs  of  my  adventure. 


XV 

OBSERVATIONS  IN  A  BELGIAN  CITY 

ONE  night,  shortly  before  I  left  this 
city,  our  airmen  raided  the  place.  I 
didn't  venture  out  of  the  house  at  the 
time,  but  the  next  night  I  thought  I  would 
go  out  and  see  what  damage  had  been  done. 
When  it  became  dark  I  left  the  house,  ac- 
cordingly, and,  mixing  with  the  crowd, 
which  consisted  largely  of  Germans,  I  went 
from  one  place  to  another  to  see  what  our 
"strafing"  had  accomplished.  Naturally 
I  avoided  speaking  to  any  one.  If  a  man 
or  woman  appeared  about  to  speak  to  me, 
I  just  turned  my  head  and  looked  or 
walked  away  in  some  other  direction.  I 
must  have  been  taken  for  an  unsociable  sort 
of  individual  a  good  many  times,  and  if  I 
had  encountered  the  same  person  twice 
I  suppose  my  conduct  might  have  aroused 
suspicion. 

219 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

I  had  a  first-class  observation  of  the 
damage  that  was  really  done  by  our  bombs. 
One  bomb  had  landed  very  near  the  main 
railroad  station,  and  if  it  had  been  only 
thirty  yards  nearer  would  have  completely 
demolished  it.  As  the  station  was  un- 
doubtedly our  airman's  objective,  I  was 
very  much  impressed  with  the  accuracy 
of  his  aim.  It  is  by  no  means  an  easy 
thing  to  hit  a  building  from  the  air  when 
you  are  going  at  anywhere  from  fifty  to 
one  hundred  miles  an  hour  and  are  being 
shot  at  from  beneath  from  a  dozen  different 
angles — unless,  of  course,  you  are  taking 
one  of  those  desperate  chances  and  flying 
so  low  that  you  cannot  very  well  miss  your 
mark,  and  the  Huns  can't  very  well  miss 
you,  either! 

I  walked  by  the  station  and  mingled 
with  the  crowds  which  stood  in  the  en- 
trances. They  paid  no  more  attention  to 
me  than  they  did  to  real  Belgians,  and 
the  fact  that  the  lights  were  all  out  in 
this  city  at  night  made  it  impossible, 
anyway,  for  any  one  to  get  as  good  a  look 
at  me  as  if  it  had  been  light. 

During  the  time  that  I  was  in  this  city 
I  suppose  I  wandered  from  one  end  of  it 

220 


OBSERVATIONS  IN  A  BELGIAN  CITY 

to  the  other.  In  one  place,  where  the 
German  staff  had  its  headquarters,  a  huge 
German  flag  hung  from  the  window,  and 
I  think  I  would  have  given  ten  years  of 
my  life  to  have  stolen  it.  Even  if  I  could 
have  pulled  it  down,  however,  it  would 
have  been  impossible  for  me  to  have  con- 
cealed it,  and  to  have  carried  it  away  with 
me  as  a  souvenir  would  have  been  out 
of  the  question. 

As  I  went  along  the  street  one  night 
a  lady  standing  on  the  corner  stopped 
me  and  spoke  to  me.  My  first  impulse, 
of  course,  was  to  answer  her,  explaining 
that  I  could  not  understand,  but  I  stopped 
myself  in  time,  pointed  to  my  ears  and 
mouth,  and  shook  my  head,  indicating  that 
I  was  deaf  and  dumb,  and  she  nodded 
understandingly  and  walked  on.  Inci- 
dents of  this  kind  were  not  unusual,  and 
I  was  always  in  fear  that  the  time  would 
come  when  some  inquisitive  and  suspicious 
German  would  encounter  me  and  not  be 
so  easily  satisfied. 

There  are  many  things  that  I  saw  in 
this  city  which,  for  various  reasons,  it 
is  impossible  for  me  to  relate  until  after 
the  war  is  over.  Some  of  them,  I  think, 

221 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

will  create  more  surprise  than  the  inci- 
dents I  am  free  to  reveal  now. 

It  used  to  amuse  me,  as  I  went  along 
the  streets  of  this  town,  looking  in  the 
shop  windows,  with  German  soldiers  at 
my  side  looking  at  the  same  things,  to 
think  how  close  I  was  to  them  and  they 
had  no  way  of  knowing.  I  was  quite  con- 
vinced that  if  I  were  discovered  my  fate 
would  have  been  death,  because  I  not 
only  had  the  forged  passport  on  me,  but 
I  had  been  so  many  days  behind  the  Ger- 
man lines  after  I  had  escaped  that  they 
couldn't  safely  let  me  live  with  the  in- 
formation I  possessed. 

One  night  I  walked  boldly  across  a 
park.  I  heard  footsteps  behind  me  and, 
turning  around,  saw  two  German  soldiers. 
I  slowed  up  a  trifle  to  let  them  get  ahead 
of  me.  It  was  rather  dark  and  I  got  a 
chance  to  see  what  a  wonderful  uniform 
the  German  military  authorities  have 
picked  out.  The  soldiers  had  not  gone 
more  than  a  few  feet  ahead  of  me  when 
they  disappeared  in  the  darkness  like  one 
of  those  melting  pictures  on  the  moving- 
picture  screen. 

As  I  wandered  through  the  streets  I 

222 


OBSERVATIONS  IN  A  BELGIAN  CITY 

frequently  glanced  in  the  cafe  windows 
as  I  passed.  German  officers  were  usually 
dining  there,  but  they  didn't  conduct  them- 
selves with  anything  like  the  light-heart- 
edness  which  characterizes  the  Allied  offi- 
cers in  London  and  Paris.  I  was  rather 
surprised  at  this,  because  in  this  part  of 
Belgium  they  were  much  freer  than  they 
would  have  been  in  Berlin,  where,  I  under- 
stand, food  is  comparatively  scarce  and 
the  restrictions  are  very  rigid. 

As  I  have  said,  my  own  condition  in 
this  city  was  in  some  respects  worse  than 
it  had  been  when  I  was  making  my  way 
through  the  open  country.  While  I  had 
a  place  to  sleep  and  my  clothes  were  no 
longer  constantly  soaking,  my  opportuni- 
ties for  getting  food  were  considerably 
less  than  they  had  been.  Nearly  all  the 
time  I  was  half  famished,  and  I  de- 
cided that  I  would  get  out  of  there  at 
once,  since  I  was  entirely  through  with 
Huyliger. 

My  physical  condition  was  greatly  im- 
proved. While  the  lack  of  food  showed 
itself  on  me,  I  had  regained  some  of  my 
strength,  my  wounds  were  healed,  my 
ankle  was  stronger,  and,  although  my 
15  223 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

knees  were  still  considerably  enlarged,  I 
felt  that  I  was  in  better  shape  than  I  had 
been  at  any  time  since  my  leap  from  the 
train,  and  I  was  ready  to  go  through  what- 
ever was  in  store  for  me. 


XVI 

I  APPROACH  THE  FRONTIER 

TO  get  out  of  the  city  it  would  be 
necessary  to  pass  two  guards.  This 
I  had  learned  in  the  course  of  my  walks 
at  night,  having  frequently  traveled  to 
the  city  limits  with  the  idea  of  finding  out 
just  what  conditions  I  would  have  to  meet 
when  the  time  came  for  me  to  leave. 

A  German  soldier's  uniform,  however, 
no  longer  worried  me  as  it  had  at  first. 
I  had  mingled  with  the  Huns  so  much 
in  the  city  that  I  began  to  feel  that  I  was 
really  a  Belgian,  and  I  assumed  the  in- 
difference that  the  latter  seemed  to  feel. 

I  decided,  therefore,  to  walk  out  of  the 
city  in  the  daytime  when  the  sentries 
would  be  less  apt  to  be  on  the  watch.  It 
worked  splendidly.  I  was  not  held  up  a 
moment,  the  sentries  evidently  taking  me 

for  a  Belgian  peasant  on  his  way  to  work. 
225 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

Traveling  faster  than  I  had  ever  done 
before  since  my  escape,  I  was  soon  out  in 
the  open  country,  and  the  first  Belgian 
I  came  to  I  approached  for  food.  He 
gave  me  half  his  lunch  and  we  sat  down 
on  the  side  of  the  road  to  eat  it.  Of 
course,  he  tried  to  talk  to  me,  but  I  used 
the  old  ruse  of  pretending  I  was  deaf  and 
dumb  and  he  was  quite  convinced  that  it 
was  so.  He  made  various  efforts  to  talk 
to  me  in  pantomime,  but  I  could  not  make 
out  what  he  was  getting  at,  and  I  think 
he  must  have  concluded  that  I  was  not 
only  half-starved,  deaf,  and  dumb,  but 
"luny"  into  the  bargain. 

When  night  came  I  looked  around  for 
a  place  to  rest.  I  had  decided  to  travel 
in  the  daytime  as  well  as  night,  because 
I  understood  that  I  was  only  a  few  miles 
from  the  frontier,  and  I  was  naturally 
anxious  to  get  there  at  the  earliest  possible 
moment,  although  I  realized  that  there  I 
would  encounter  the  most  hazardous  part 
of  my  whole  adventure.  To  get  through 
that  heavily  guarded  barbed  and  electri- 
cally charged  barrier  was  a  problem  that 
I  hated  to  think  of,  even,  although  the 
hours  I  spent  endeavoring  to  devise 
226 


I   APPROACH   THE   FRONTIER 

some  way  of  outwitting  the  Huns  were 
many. 

It  had  occurred  to  me,  for  instance, 
that  it  would  not  be  such  a  difficult  matter 
to  vault  over  the  electric  fence,  which  was 
only  nine  feet  high.  In  college,  I  know, 
a  ten-foot  vault  is  considered  a  high- 
school  boy's  accomplishment,  but  there 
were  two  great  difficulties  in  the  way  of 
this  solution.  In  the  first  place,  it  would 
be  no  easy  matter  to  get  a  pole  of  the 
right  length,  weight,  and  strength  to  serve 
the  purpose.  More  particularly,  however, 
the  pole-vault  idea  seemed  to  be  out  of 
the  question  because  of  the  fact  that  on 
either  side  of  the  electric  fence,  six  feet 
from  it,  was  a  six-foot  barbed- wire  bar- 
rier. To  vault  safely  over  a  nine-foot 
electrically  charged  fence  was  one  thing, 
but  to  combine  with  it  a  twelve-foot  broad 
vault  was  a  feat  which  even  a  college 
athlete  in  the  pink  of  condition  would  be 
apt  to  flunk.  Indeed,  I  don't  believe  it  is 
possible. 

Another  plan  that  seemed  half-way  rea- 
sonable was  to  build  a  pair  of  stilts  about 
twelve  or  fourteen  feet  high  and  walk 

over  the  barriers  one  by  one.    As  a  young- 
227 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

ster  I  had  acquired  considerable  skill  in  stilt- 
walking,  and  I  have  no  doubt  that  with 
the  proper  equipment  it  would  have  been 
quite  feasible  to  have  walked  out  of  Bel- 
gium as  easily  as  possible  in  that  way,  but 
whether  or  not  I  was  going  to  have  a 
chance  to  construct  the  necessary  stilts 
remained  to  be  seen. 

There  were  a  good  many  bicycles  in 
use  by  the  German  soldiers  in  Belgium, 
and  it  had  often  occurred  to  me  that  if  I 
could  have  stolen  one,  the  tires  would 
have  made  excellent  gloves  and  insulated 
coverings  for  my  feet  in  case  it  was  nec- 
essary for  me  to  attempt  to  climb  over 
the  electric  fence  bodily.  But  as  I  had 
never  been  able  to  steal  a  bicycle,  this 
avenue  of  escape  was  closed  to  me. 

I  decided  to  wait  until  I  arrived  at  the 
barrier  and  then  make  up  my  mind  how 
to  proceed. 

To  find  a  decent  place  to  sleep  that 
night  I  crawled  under  a  barbed -wire 
fence,  thinking  it  led  into  some  field. 
As  I  passed  under,  one  of  the  barbs 
caught  in  my  coat,  and  in  trying  to  pull 
myself  free  I  shook  the  fence  for  several 

yards. 

228 


I   APPROACH  THE   FRONTIER 

Instantly  there  came  out  of  the  night 
the  nerve-racking  command,  "Halt!" 

Again  I  feared  I  was  done  for.  I 
crouched  close  down  on  the  ground  in 
the  darkness,  not  knowing  whether  to 
take  to  my  legs  and  trust  to  the  Hun's 
missing  me  in  the  darkness  if  he  fired,  or 
stay  right  where  I  was.  It  was  foggy  as 
well  as  dark,  and  although  I  knew  the 
sentry  was  only  a  few  feet  away  from  me 
I  decided  to  stand,  or  rather  lie  still.  I 
think  my  heart  made  almost  as  much 
noise  as  the  rattling  of  the  wire  in  the 
first  place,  but  it  was  a  tense  few  moments 
for  me. 

I  heard  the  German  say  a  few  words 
to  himself,  but  didn't  understand  them, 
of  course,  and  then  he  made  a  sound  as 
if  to  call  a  dog,  and  I  realized  that  his 
theory  of  the  noise  he  had  heard  was  that 
a  dog  had  made  its  way  through  the 
fence. 

For  perhaps  five  minutes  I  didn't  stir, 
and  then,  figuring  that  the  German  had 
probably  continued  on  his  beat,  I  crept 
quietly  under  the  wire  again,  this  time 
being  mighty  careful  to  hug  the  ground 
so  close  that  I  wouldn't  touch  the  wire, 
229 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

and  made  off  in  a  different  direction. 
Evidently  the  barbed-wire  fence  had  been 
thrown  around  an  ammunition-depot  or 
something  of  the  kind  and  it  was  not  a 
field  at  all  that  I  had  tried  to  get  into. 

I  figured  that  other  sentries  were  prob- 
ably in  the  neighborhood  and  I  proceeded 
very  gingerly. 

After  I  had  got  about  a  mile  away  from 
this  spot  I  came  to  a  humble  Belgian 
house,  and  I  knocked  at  the  door  and  ap- 
plied for  food  in  my  usual  way,  pointing 
to  my  mouth  to  indicate  I  was  hungry 
and  to  my  ears  and  mouth  to  imply  that 
I  was  deaf  and  dumb.  The  Belgian  wom- 
an who  lived  in  the  house  brought  me  a 
piece  of  bread  and  two  cold  potatoes, 
and  as  I  sat  there  eating  them  she  eyed 
me  very  keenly. 

I  haven't  the  slightest  doubt  that  she 
realized  I  was  a  fugitive.  She  lived  so 
near  the  border  that  it  was  more  than 
likely  that  other  fugitives  had  come  to 
her  before,  and  for  that  reason  I  ap- 
preciated more  fully  the  extent  of  the  risk 
she  ran,  for  no  doubt  the  Germans  were 
constantly  watching  the  conduct  of  these 
Belgians  who  lived  near  the  line. 
230 


I  APPROACH  THE   FRONTIER 

My  theory  that  she  realized  that  I  was 
not  a  Belgian  at  all,  but  probably  some 
English  fugitive,  was  confirmed  a  moment 
later  when,  as  I  made  ready  to  go,  she 
touched  me  on  the  arm  and  indicated  that 
I  was  to  wait  a  moment.  She  went  to  a 
bureau  and  brought  out  two  pieces  of 
fancy  Belgian  lace,  which  she  insisted 
upon  my  taking  away,  although  at  that 
particular  moment  I  had  as  much  use 
for  Belgian  lace  as  an  elephant  has  for  a 
safety-razor,  but  I  was  touched  with  her 
thoughtfulness  and  pressed  her  hand  to 
show  my  gratitude.  She  would  not  accept 
the  money  I  offered  her. 

I  carried  that  lace  through  my  sub- 
sequent experiences,  feeling  that  it  would 
be  a  fine  souvenir  for  my  mother,  although, 
as  a  matter  of  fact,  if  she  had  known  that 
it  was  going  to  delay  my  final  escape  for 
even  a  single  moment,  as  it  did,  I  am  quite 
sure  she  would  rather  I  had  never  seen  it. 

On  one  piece  of  lace  was  the  Flemish  word 
"  Charite"  and  on  the  other  the  word 
"Esperance"  At  the  time,  I  took  these 
words  to  mean  "Charity"  and  "Experi- 
ence," and  all  I  hoped  was  that  I  would 
get  as  much  of  the  one  as  I  was  getting 
231 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

of  the  other  before  I  finally  got  through. 
I  learned  subsequently  that  what  the 
words  really  stood  for  was  "Charity"  and 
"Hope,"  and  then  I  was  sure  that  my 
kind  Belgian  friend  had  indeed  realized 
my  plight  and  that  her  thoughtful  souve- 
nir was  intended  to  encourage  me  in 
the  trials  she  must  have  known  were  be- 
fore me. 

I  didn't  let  the  old  Belgian  lady  know, 
because  I  did  not  want  to  alarm  her  un- 
necessarily, but  that  night  I  slept  in  her 
backyard,  leaving  early  in  the  morning  be- 
fore it  became  light. 

Later  in  the  day  I  applied  at  another 
house  for  food.  It  was  occupied  by  a 
father  and  mother  and  ten  children.  I 
hesitated  to  ask  them  for  food  without 
offering  to  pay  for  it,  as  I  realized  what 
a  task  it  must  have  been  for  them  to 
support  themselves  without  having  to 
feed  a  hungry  man.  Accordingly,  I  gave 
the  man  a  mark  and  then  indicated  that 
I  wanted  something  to  eat.  They  were 
just  about  to  eat,  themselves,  apparently, 
and  they  let  me  partake  of  their  meal, 
which  consisted  of  a  huge  bowl  of  some 
kind  of  soup  which  I  was  unable  to  iden- 
232 


I  APPROACH  THE   FRONTIER 

tify  and  which  they  served  in  ordinary 
wash-basins!  I  don't  know  that  they 
ever  used  the  basins  to  wash  in  as  well, 
but  whether  they  did  or  not  did  not  worry 
me  very  much.  The  soup  was  good  and 
I  enjoyed  it  very  much. 

All  the  time  I  was  there  I  could  see  the 
father  and  the  eldest  son,  a  boy  about 
seventeen,  were  extremely  nervous.  I  had 
indicated  to  them  that  I  was  deaf  and 
dumb,  but  if  they  believed  me  it  didn't 
seem  to  make  them  any  more  comfortable. 

I  lingered  at  the  house  for  about  an 
hour  after  the  meal,  and  during  that  time 
a  young  man  came  to  call  on  the  eldest 
daughter,  a  young  woman  of  perhaps 
eighteen.  The  caller  eyed  me  very  sus- 
piciously, although  I  must  have  resembled 
anything  but  a  British  officer.  They 
spoke  in  Flemish  and  I  did  not  under- 
stand a  word  they  said,  but  I  think  they 
were  discussing  my  probable  identity. 
During  their  conversation,  I  had  a  chance 
to  look  around  the  rooms.  There  were 
three  altogether,  two  fairly  large  and  one 
somewhat  smaller,  about  fourteen  feet 
long  and  six  deep.  In  this  smaller  room 
there  were  two  double-decked  beds,  which 
233 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

were  apparently  intended  to  house  the 
whole  family,  although  how  the  whole 
twelve  of  them  could  sleep  in  that  one 
room  will  ever  remain  a  mystery  to  me. 

From  the  kitchen  you  could  walk  di- 
rectly into  the  cow-barn,  where  two  cows 
were  kept,  and  this,  as  I  have  pointed  out 
before,  is  the  usual  construction  of  the 
poorer  Belgian  houses. 

I  could  not  make  out  why  the  caller 
seemed  to  be  so  antagonistic  to  me,  and 
yet  I  am  sure  he  was  arguing  with  the 
family  against  me.  Perhaps  the  fact  that 
I  wasn't  wearing  wooden  shoes — I  doubt 
whether  I  could  have  obtained  a  pair  big 
enough  for  me — had  convinced  him  that 
I  was  not  really  a  Belgian,  because  there 
was  nothing  about  me  otherwise  which 
could  have  given  him  that  idea. 

At  that  time — and  I  suppose  it  is  true 
to-day — about  ninety  per  cent,  of  the 
people  in  Belgium  were  wearing  wooden 
shoes.  Among  the  peasants  I  don't  be- 
lieve I  ever  saw  any  other  kind  of  foot- 
wear, and  they  are  more  common  there 
than  they  are  in  Holland.  The  Dutch 
wear  them  more  as  a  matter  of  custom. 
In  Belgium  they  are  a  dire  necessity  be- 
234 


I   APPROACH   THE    FRONTIER 

cause  of  the  lack  of  leather.  I  was  told 
that  during  the  coming  year  practically 
all  the  peasants  and  poorer  people  in 
Germany,  too,  will  adopt  wooden  shoes 
for  farm-work,  as  that  is  one  direction  in 
which  wood  can  be  substituted  for  leather 
without  much  loss. 

When  the  young  man  left  I  left  shortly 
afterward,  as  I  was  not  at  all  comfortable 
about  what  his  intentions  were  regarding 
me.  For  all  I  knew,  he  might  have  gone 
to  notify  the  German  authorities  that  there 
was  a  strange  man  in  the  vicinity — more, 
perhaps,  to  protect  his  friends  from  suspi- 
cion of  having  aided  me  than  to  injure  me. 

At  any  rate,  I  was  not  going  to  take  any 
chances  and  I  got  out  of  that  neighborhood 
as  rapidly  as  I  could. 

That  night  found  me  right  on  the  frontier 
of  Holland. 


XVII 

GETTING  THROUGH   THE  LINES 

WAITING  until  it  was  quite  dark,  I 
made  my  way  carefully  through  a 
field  and  eventually  came  to  the  much- 
dreaded  barrier. 

It  was  all  that  I  had  heard  about  it. 
Every  foot  of  the  border-line  between 
Belgium  and  Holland  is  protected  in  pre- 
cisely the  same  manner.  It  is  there  to 
serve  three  purposes:  first,  to  keep  the  Bel- 
gians from  escaping  into  Holland;  second, 
to  keep  enemies,  like  myself,  from  making 
their  way  to  freedom;  and,  third,  to  pre- 
vent desertions  on  the  part  of  Germans 
themselves.  One  look  at  it  was  enough  to 
convince  any  one  that  it  probably  accom- 
plished all  three  objects  about  as  well  as 
any  contrivance  could,  and  one  look  was 
all  I  got  of  it  that  night,  for  while  I  lay  on 
my  stomach  gazing  at  the  forbidding  struct- 
236 


GETTING  THROUGH  THE  LINES 

ure  I  heard  the  measured  stride  of  a  Ger- 
man sentry  advancing  toward  me,  and  I 
crawled  away  as  fast  as  I  possibly  could, 
determined  to  spend  the  night  somewhere 
in  the  fields  and  make  another  and  more 
careful  survey  the  following  night. 

The  view  I  had  obtained,  however,  was 
sufficient  to  convince  me  that  the  pole- 
vault  idea  was  out  of  the  question  even 
if  I  had  a  pole  and  were  a  proficient  pole- 
vaulter.  The  three  fences  covered  a  span 
of  at  least  twelve  feet,  and  to  clear  the 
last  barbed-wire  fence  it  would  be  neces- 
sary to  vault  not  only  at  least  ten  feet 
high,  but  at  least  fourteen  feet  wide,  with 
certain  knowledge  that  to  touch  the  elec- 
trically charged  fence  meant  instant  death. 
There  would  be  no  second  chance  if  you 
came  a  cropper  the  first  time. 

The  stilt  idea  was  also  impracticable 
because  of  the  lack  of  suitable  timber  and 
tools  with  which  to  construct  the  stilts. 

It  seemed  to  me  that  the  best  thing  to 
do  was  to  travel  up  and  down  the  line  a 
bit  in  the  hope  that  some  spot  might  be 
discovered  where  conditions  were  more  fa- 
vorable, although  I  don't  know  just  what 
I  expected  along  those  lines. 
237 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

It  was  mighty  disheartening  to  realize 
that  only  a  few  feet  away  lay  certain  lib- 
erty and  that  the  only  thing  that  prevented 
me  from  reaching  it  were  three  confounded 
fences.  I  thought  of  my  machine  and 
wished  that  some  kind  fairy  would  set  it 
in  front  of  me  for  just  one  minute. 

I  spent  the  night  in  a  clump  of  bushes 
and  kept  in  hiding  most  of  the  next  day, 
only  going  abroad  for  an  hour  or  two  in  the 
middle  of  the  day  to  intercept  some  Belgian 
peasant  and  beg  for  food.  The  Belgians 
in  this  section  were  naturally  very  much 
afraid  of  the  Germans,  and  I  fared  badly. 
In  nearly  every  house  German  soldiers 
were  quartered,  and  it  was  out  of  the  ques- 
tion for  me  to  apply  for  food  in  that  direc- 
tion. The  proximity  of  the  border  made 
every  one  eye  one  another  with  more  or 
less  suspicion,  and  I  soon  came  to  the  con- 
clusion that  the  safest  thing  I  could  do  was 
to  live  on  raw  vegetables,  which  I  could 
steal  from  the  fields  at  night  as  I  had  pre- 
viously done. 

That  night  I  made  another  survey  of  the 

barrier  in  that  vicinity,  but  it  looked  just 

as  hopeless  as  it  had  the  night  before,  and 

I  concluded  that  I  only  wasted  time  there. 

238 


GETTING  THROUGH  THE   LINES 

I  spent  the  night  wandering  west,  guided 
by  the  North  Star,  which  had  served  me  so 
faithfully  in  all  my  traveling.  Every  mile 
or  two  I  would  make  my  way  carefully  to 
the  barrier  to  see  if  conditions  were  any 
better,  but  it  seemed  to  be  the  same  all 
along.  I  felt  like  a  wild  animal  in  a  cage, 
with  about  as  much  chance  of  getting  out. 

The  section  of  the  country  in  which  I 
was  now  wandering  was  very  heavily 
wooded  and  there  was  really  no  very  great 
difficulty  in  keeping  myself  concealed, 
which  I  did  all  day  long,  striving  all  the 
time  to  think  of  some  way  in  which  I  could 
circumvent  that  cursed  barrier. 

The  idea  of  a  huge  step-ladder  occurred 
to  me,  but  I  searched  hour  after  hour  in 
vain  for  lumber  or  fallen  trees  out  of  which 
I  could  construct  one.  If  I  could  only  ob- 
tain something  which  would  enable  me  to 
reach  a  point  about  nine  feet  in  the  air,  it 
would  be  a  comparatively  simple  matter  to 
jump  from  that  point  over  the  electric 
fence. 

Then  I  thought  that  perhaps  I  could 
construct  a  simple  ladder  and  lean  it 
against  one  of  the  posts  upon  which  the 
electric  wires  were  strung,  climb  to  the  top 

16  239 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

and  leap  over,  getting  over  the  barbed- 
wire  fences  in  the  same  way. 

This  seemed  to  be  the  most  likely  plan, 
and  all  night  long  I  sat  constructing  a 
ladder  for  this  purpose. 

I  was  fortunate  enough  to  find  a  number 
of  fallen  pine-trees  from  ten  to  twenty  feet 
long.  I  selected  two  of  them  which  seemed 
sufficiently  strong  and  broke  off  all  the 
branches,  which  I  used  as  rungs,  tying  them 
to  the  poles  with  grass  and  strips  from  my 
handkerchief  and  shirt  as  best  I  could. 

It  was  not  a  very  workmanlike-looking 
ladder  when  I  finally  got  through  with  it. 
I  leaned  it  against  a  tree  to  test  it  and  it 
wabbled  considerably.  It  was  more  like  a 
rope  ladder  than  a  wooden  one,  but  I 
strengthened  it  here  and  there  and  decided 
that  it  would  probably  serve  the  purpose. 

I  kept  the  ladder  in  the  woods  all  day 
and  could  hardly  wait  until  dark  to  make 
the  supreme  test.  If  it  proved  successful, 
my  troubles  were  over;  within  a  few  hours 
I  would  be  in  a  neutral  country  out  of  all 
danger.  If  it  failed —  I  dismissed  the 
idea  summarily.  There  was  no  use  worry- 
ing about  failure;  the  thing  to  do  was  to 
succeed. 

240 


GETTING  THROUGH  THE  LINES 

The  few  hours  that  were  to  pass  before 
night  came  on  seemed  endless,  but  I  util- 
ized them  to  reinforce  my  ladder,  tying 
the  rungs  more  securely  with  long  grass 
which  I  plucked  in  the  woods. 

At  last  night  came,  and  with  my  ladder 
in  hand  I  made  for  the  barrier.  In  front 
of  it  there  was  a  cleared  space  of  about  one 
hundred  yards,  which  had  been  prepared 
to  make  the  work  of  the  guards  easier  in 
watching  it. 

I  waited  in  the  neighborhood  until  I 
heard  the  sentry  pass  the  spot  where  I  was 
in  hiding,  and  then  I  hurried  across  the 
clearing,  shoved  my  ladder  under  the 
barbed  wire,  and  endeavored  to  follow  it. 
My  clothing  caught  in  the  wire,  but  I 
wrenched  myself  clear  and  crawled  to  the 
electric  barrier. 

My  plan  was  to  place  the  ladder  against 
one  of  the  posts,  climb  up  to  the  top,  and 
then  jump.  There  would  be  a  fall  of  nine 
or  ten  feet,  and  I  might  possibly  sprain 
my  ankle  or  break  my  leg,  but  if  that  was 
all  that  stood  between  me  and  freedom  I 
wasn't  going  to  stop  to  consider  it. 

I  put  my  ear  to  the  ground  to  listen  for 
the  coming  of  the  sentry.  There  was  not 
241 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

a  sound.  Eagerly  but  carefully  I  placed 
the  ladder  against  the  post  and  started  up. 
Only  a  few  feet  separated  me  from  liberty, 
and  my  heart  beat  fast. 

I  had  climbed  perhaps  three  rungs  of  my 
ladder  when  I  became  aware  of  an  un- 
looked-for difficulty. 

The  ladder  was  slipping! 

Just  as  I  took  the  next  rung  the  ladder 
slipped,  came  in  contact  with  the  live  wire, 
and  the  current  passed  through  the  wet 
sticks  and  into  my  body.  There  was  a  blue 
flash,  my  hold  on  the  ladder  relaxed,  and  I 
fell  heavily  to  the  ground  unconscious! 

Of  course,  I  had  not  received  the  full 
force  of  the  current  or  I  would  not  now 
be  here.  I  must  have  remained  uncon- 
scious for  a  few  moments,  but  I  came  to 
just  in  time  to  hear  the  German  guard  com- 
ing, and  the  thought  came  to  me  that  if  I 
didn't  get  that  ladder  concealed  at  once, 
he  would  see  it  even  though,  fortunately 
for  me,  it  was  an  unusually  dark  night. 

I  pulled  the  ladder  out  of  his  path  and 
lay  down  flat  on  the  ground,  not  seven  feet 
away  from  his  beat.  He  passed  so  close 
that  I  could  have  pushed  the  ladder  out 

and  tripped  him  up. 

242 


GETTING  THROUGH  THE  LINES 

It  occurred  to  me  that  I  could  have 
climbed  back  under  the  barbed-wire  fence 
and  waited  for  the  sentry  to  return  and 
then  felled  him  with  a  blow  on  the  head, 
as  he  had  no  idea,  of  course,  that  there 
was  any  one  in  the  vicinity.  I  wouldn't 
have  hesitated  to  take  life,  because  my 
only  thought  now  was  to  get  into  Holland, 
but  I  thought  that  as  long  as  he  didn't 
bother  me  perhaps  the  safest  thing  to  do 
was  not  to  bother  him,  but  to  continue  my 
efforts  during  his  periodic  absences. 

His  beat  at  this  point  was  apparently 
fairly  long  and  allowed  me  more  time  to 
work  than  I  had  hoped  for. 

My  mishap  with  the  ladder  had  con- 
vinced me  that  escape  in  that  way  was  not 
feasible.  The  shock  that  I  had  received 
had  unnerved  me  and  I  was  afraid  to  risk 
it  again,  particularly  as  I  realized  that  I 
had  fared  more  fortunately  than  I  could 
hope  to  again  if  I  met  with  a  similar  mis- 
hap. There  was  no  way  of  making  that 
ladder  hold,  and  I  gave  up  the  idea  of 
using  it. 

I  was  now  right  in  front  of  this  electric 
barrier,  and  as  I  studied  it  I  saw  another 
way  of  getting  by.  If  I  couldn't  get  over 
243 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

it,  what  was  the  matter  with  getting  un- 
der it? 

The  bottom  wirewas  only  two  inches  from 
the  ground,  and,  of  course,  I  couldn't  touch 
it,  but  my  plan  was  to  dig  underneath  it 
and  then  crawl  through  the  hole  in  the 
ground. 

I  had  only  my  hands  to  dig  with,  but  I 
went  at  it  with  a  will,  and  fortunately  the 
ground  was  not  very  hard. 

When  I  had  dug  about  six  inches,  mak- 
ing a  distance  in  all  of  eight  inches  from 
the  lowest  electric  wire,  I  came  to  an  un- 
derground wire.  I  knew  enough  about 
electricity  to  realize  that  this  wire  could 
not  be  charged,  as  it  was  in  contact  with 
the  ground,  but  still  there  was  not  room 
between  the  live  wire  and  this  underground 
wire  for  me  to  crawl  through,  and  I  either 
had  to  go  on  digging  deep  enough  under 
this  wire  to  crawl  under  it  or  else  pull  it  up. 

This  underground  wire  was  about  as  big 
around  as  a  lead-pencil  and  there  was  no 
chance  of  breaking  it.  The  jack-knife  I 
had  had  at  the  start  of  my  travels  I  had 
long  since  lost,  and  even  if  I  had  had 
something  to  hammer  with,  the  noise  would 

have  made  that  method  impracticable. 

244 


GETTING  THROUGH  THE  LINES 

I  went  on  digging.  When  the  total  dis- 
tance between  the  live  wire  and  the  bot- 
tom of  the  hole  I  had  dug  was  thirty 
inches  I  took  hold  of  the  ground  wire  and 
pulled  on  it  with  all  my  strength. 

It  wouldn't  budge.  It  was  stretched 
taut  across  the  narrow  ditch  I  had  dug 
— about  fourteen  inches  wide — and  all  my 
tugging  didn't  serve  to  loosen  it. 

I  was  just  about  to  give  it  up  in  despair 
when  a  staple  gave  way  in  the  nearest  post. 
This  enabled  me  to  pull  the  wire  through 
the  ground  a  little,  and  I  renewed  my 
efforts.  After  a  moment  or  two  of  pulling 
as  I  had  never  pulled  in  my  life  before  a 
staple  on  the  next  post  gave  way,  and  my 
work  became  easier.  I  had  more  leeway 
now  and  pulled  and  pulled  again  until  in 
all  eight  staples  had  given  way. 

Every  time  a  staple  gave  way  it  sounded 
in  my  ears  like  the  report  of  a  gun,  al- 
though I  suppose  it  didn't  really  make 
very  much  noise.  Nevertheless,  each  time 
I  would  put  my  ear  to  the  ground  to  listen 
for  the  guard,  and,  not  hearing  him,  went 
on  with  my  work. 

By  pulling  on  the  wire  I  was  now  able 
to  drag  it  through  the  ground  enough  to 
245 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

place  it  back  from  the  fence  and  go  on 
digging. 

The  deeper  I  went  the  harder  became  the 
work,  because  by  this  time  my  finger-nails 
were  broken  and  I  was  nervous — afraid 
every  moment  that  I  would  touch  the 
charged  wire. 

I  kept  at  it,  however,  with  my  mind  con- 
stantly on  the  hole  I  was  digging  and  the 
liberty  which  was  almost  within  my  reach. 

Finally  I  figured  that  I  had  enough  space 
to  crawl  through  and  still  leave  a  couple  of 
inches  between  my  back  and  the  live  wire. 

Before  I  went  under  that  wire  I  noticed 
that  the  lace  which  the  Belgian  woman  had 
given  me  as  a  souvenir  made  my  pocket 
bulge,  and  lest  it  might  be  the  innocent 
means  of  electrocuting  me  by  touching  the 
live  wire,  I  took  it  out,  rolled  it  up,  and 
threw  it  over  the  barrier. 

Then  I  lay  down  on  my  stomach  and 
crawled  or  rather  writhed  under  the  wire 
like  a  snake,  with  my  feet  first,  and  there 
wasn't  any  question  of  my  hugging  Mother 
Earth  as  closely  as  possible,  because  I 
Realized  that  even  to  touch  the  wire  above 
me  with  my  back  meant  instant  death. 

Anxious  as  I  was  to  get  on  the  other  side, 
246 


GETTING  THROUGH  THE  LINES 

I  didn't  hurry  this  operation.  I  feared 
that  there  might  be  some  little  detail  that 
I  had  overlooked,  and  I  exercised  the 
greatest  possible  care  in  going  under,  tak- 
ing nothing  for  granted. 

When  I  finally  got  through  and  straight- 
ened up  there  were  still  several  feet  of 
Belgium  between  me  and  liberty,  repre- 
sented by  the  six  feet  which  separated  the 
electric  barrier  from  the  last  barbed-wire 
fence,  but  before  I  went  another  step  I 
went  down  on  my  knees  and  thanked  God 
for  my  long  series  of  escapes  and  especially 
for  this  last  achievement,  which  seemed  to 
me  to  be  about  all  that  was  necessary  to 
bring  me  freedom. 

Then  I  crawled  under  the  barbed-wire 
fence  and  breathed  the  free  air  of  Holland ! 
I  had  no  clear  idea  just  where  I  was,  and 
I  didn't  much  care.  I  was  out  of  the 
power  of  the  Germans,  and  that  was 
enough.  I  had  walked  perhaps  a  hundred 
yards  when  I  remembered  the  lace  I  had 
thrown  over  the  barrier,  and,  dangerous  as 
I  realized  the  undertaking  to  be,  I  deter- 
mined to  walk  back  and  get  it.  This 
necessitated  my  going  back  on  to  Belgian 
soil  again,  but  it  seemed  a  shame  to  leave 
247 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

the  lace  there,  and  by  exercising  a  little 
care  I  figured  I  could  get  it  easily 
enough. 

When  I  came  to  the  spot  at  which  I  had 
made  my  way  under  the  barbed  wire  I 
put  my  ear  to  the  ground  and  listened  for 
the  sentry.  I  heard  him  coming  and  lay 
prone  on  the  ground  till  he  had  passed. 
The  fact  that  he  might  observe  the  hole  in 
the  ground  or  the  ladder  occurred  to  me 
as  I  lay  there,  and  it  seemed  like  an  age 
before  he  finally  marched  out  of  earshot. 
Then  I  went  under  the  barbed  wire  again, 
retrieved  the  lace,  and  once  again  made  my 
way  to  Dutch  territory. 

It  does  not  take  long  to  describe  the 
events  just  referred  to,  but  the  incidents 
themselves  consumed  several  hours  in  all. 
To  dig  the  hole  must  have  taken  me  more 
than  two  hours,  and  I  had  to  stop  fre- 
quently to  hide  while  the  sentry  passed. 
Many  times,  indeed,  I  thought  I  heard  him 
coming  and  stopped  my  work,  and  then  dis- 
covered that  it  was  only  my  imagination. 
I  certainly  suffered  enough  that  night  to 
last  me  a  lifetime.  With  a  German  guard 
on  one  side,  death  from  electrocution  on  the 

other,  and  starvation  staring  me  in  the 
248 


GETTING  THROUGH  THE  LINES 

face,  my  plight  was  anything  but  a  com- 
fortable one. 

It  was  the  igth  of  November,  1917,  when 
I  got  through  the  wires.  I  had  made  my 
leap  from  the  train  on  September  Qth. 
Altogether,  therefore,  just  seventy-two 
days  had  elapsed  since  I  escaped  from  the 
Huns.  If  I  live  to  be  as  old  as  Methuselah, 
I  never  expect  to  live  through  another 
seventy-two  days  so  crammed  full  of  in- 
cident and  hazard  and  lucky  escapes. 


XVIII 


BUT  I  was  not  yet  quite  out  of  the 
woods. 

I  now  knew  that  I  was  in  Holland,  but 
just  where  I  had  no  idea.  I  walked  for 
about  thirty  minutes  and  came  to  a  path 
leading  to  the  right,  and  I  had  proceeded 
along  it  but  a  few  hundred  yards  when  I 
saw  in  front  of  me  a  fence  exactly  like  the 
one  I  had  crossed. 

"This  is  funny,"  I  said  to  myself.  "I 
didn't  know  the  Dutch  had  a  fence,  too." 
I  advanced  to  the  fence  and  examined  it 
closely,  and  judge  of  my  astonishment 
when  I  saw  beyond  it  a  nine-foot  fence 
apparently  holding  live  wires  exactly  like 
the  one  which  had  nearly  been  the  death 
of  me! 

I  had  very  little  time  to  conjecture  what 
it  all  meant,  for  just  then  I  heard  a  guard 
250 


EXPERIENCES    IN   HOLLAND 

coming.  He  was  walking  so  fast  that  I 
was  sure  it  was  a  Dutch  sentry,  as  the 
Huns  walk  much  more  slowly. 

I  was  so  bewildered,  however,  that  I 
decided  to  take  no  chances,  and  as  the 
road  was  fairly  good  I  wandered  down  it 
and  away  from  that  mysterious  fence. 
About  half  a  mile  down  I  could  see  the 
light  of  a  sentry  station,  and  I  thought 
I  would  go  there  and  tell  my  story  to  the 
sentries,  realizing  that  as  I  was  unarmed 
it  was  perfectly  safe  for  me  to  announce 
myself  to  the  Dutch  authorities.  I  could 
be  interned  only  if  I  entered  Holland 
under  arms. 

As  I  approached  the  sentry  box  I  no- 
ticed three  men  in  gray  uniforms,  the 
regulation  Dutch  color.  I  was  on  the 
verge  of  shouting  to  them  when  the 
thought  struck  me  that  there  was  just 
a  chance  I  might  be  mistaken,  as  the 
German  uniforms  were  the  same  color, 
and  I  had  suffered  too  many  privations 
and  too  many  narrow  escapes  to  lose  all 
at  this  time. 

I  had  just  turned  off  the  road  to  go  back 
into  some  bushes  when  out  of  the  darkness 
I  heard  that  dread  German  command: 
251 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

"Halt!    Halt!" 

He  didn't  need  to  holler  twice.  I 
heard  and  heeded  the  first  time.  Then 
I  heard  another  man  come  running  up, 
and  there  was  considerable  talking,  but 
whether  they  were  Germans  or  Holland- 
ers I  was  still  uncertain.  Evidently,  how- 
ever, he  thought  the  noise  must  be  a  dog 
or  the  wind. 

Finally  I  heard  one  of  them  laugh  and 
heard  him  walk  back  to  the  sentry  sta- 
tion where  the  guard  was  billeted,  and 
I  crawled  a  little  nearer  to  try  to  make 
out  just  what  it  all  meant.  I  had  begun 
to  think  it  was  all  a  nightmare. 

Between  myself  and  the  light  in  the 
sentry  station  I  then  noticed  the  stoop- 
ing figure  of  a  man  bending  over  as  if  to 
conceal  himself,  and  on  his  head  was  the 
spiked  helmet  of  a  German  soldier! 

I  knew  then  what  another  narrow  escape 
I  had  had,  for  I  am  quite  sure  he  would 
have  shot  me  without  ceremony  if  I  had 
foolishly  made  myself  known.  I  would  have 
been  buried  at  once  and  no  one  would  have 
been  any  the  wiser,  even  though,  techni- 
cally speaking,  I  was  on  neutral  territory 
and  immune  from  capture  or  attack. 
252 


EXPERIENCES    IN   HOLLAND 

This  new  shock  only  served  to  bewilder 
me  the  more.  I  was  completely  lost. 
There  seemed  to  be  frontier  behind  me 
and  frontier  in  front  of  me.  Evidently, 
however,  what  had  happened  was  that 
I  had  lost  my  sense  of  direction  and  had 
wandered  in  the  arc  of  a  circle,  returning 
to  the  same  fence  that  I  had  been  so  long 
in  getting  through.  This  solution  of  the 
mystery  came  to  me  suddenly,  and  I  at 
once  searched  the  landscape  for  something 
in  the  way  of  a  landmark  to  guide  me. 
For  once  my  faithful  friend,  the  North 
Star,  had  failed  me.  The  sky  was  pitch 
black  and  there  wasn't  a  star  in  the 
heavens. 

In  the  distance,  at  what  appeared  to 
be  about  three  miles  away,  but  which 
turned  out  to  be  six,  I  could  discern  the 
lights  of  a  village,  and  I  knew  that  it 
must  be  a  Dutch  village,  as  lights  are  not 
allowed  in  Belgium  in  that  indiscriminate 
way. 

My  course  was  now  clear.  I  would 
make  a  bee-line  for  that  village.  Before 
I  had  gone  very  far  I  found  myself  in 
a  marsh  or  swamp,  and  I  turned  back  a 
little,  hoping  to  find  a  better  path.  Find- 
253 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

ing  none,  I  retraced  my  steps  and  kept 
straight  ahead,  determined  to  reach  that 
village  at  all  costs  and  to  swerve  neither 
to  the  right  nor  to  the  left  until  I  got  there. 

One  moment  I  would  be  in  water  up 
to  my  knees  and  the  next  I  would  sink 
in  clear  up  to  my  waist.  I  paid  no  atten- 
tion to  my  condition.  It  was  merely  a 
repetition  of  what  I  had  gone  through 
many  times  before,  but  this  time  I  had 
a  definite  goal,  and,  once  I  reached  it,  I 
knew  my  troubles  would  be  over. 

It  took  me  perhaps  three  hours  to  reach 
firm  ground.  The  path  I  struck  led  to 
within  half  a  mile  of  the  village.  I  shall 
never  forget  that  path;  it  was  almost  as 
welcome  to  my  feet  as  the  opposite  bank 
of  the  Meuse  had  seemed. 

The  first  habitation  I  came  to  was  a  little 
workshop  with  a  bright  light  shining  out- 
side. It  must  have  been  after  midnight, 
but  the  people  inside  were  apparently  just 
quitting  work.  There  were  three  men  and 
two  boys  engaged  in  making  wooden  shoes. 

It  wasn't  necessary  for  me  to  explain 

to  them  that  I  was  a  refugee,  even  if  I  had 

been  able  to  speak  their  language.    I  was 

caked  with  mud  up  to  my  shoulders,  and 

254 


.EXPERIENCES    IN   HOLLAND 

I  suppose  my  face  must  have  recorded 
some  of  the  experiences  I  had  gone  through 
that  memorable  night. 

"I  want  the  British  consul,"  I  told  them. 

Apparently  they  didn't  understand,  but 
one  of  them  volunteered  to  conduct  me 
to  the  village.  They  seemed  to  be  only 
too  anxious  to  do  all  they  could  for  me; 
evidently  they  realized  I  was  a  British 
soldier. 

It  was  very  late  when  my  companion 
finally  escorted  me  into  the  village,  but  he 
aroused  some  people  he  knew  from  their 
beds  and  they  dressed  and  came  down  to 
feed  me. 

The  family  consisted  of  an  old  lady  and 
her  husband  and  a  son  who  was  a  soldier  in 
the  Dutch  army.  The  cold  shivers  ran 
down  my  back  while  he  sat  beside  me, 
because  every  now  and  again  I  caught  a 
glimpse  of  his  gray  uniform  and  it  re- 
sembled very  much  that  of  the  German 
soldiers. 

Some  of  the  neighbors,  aroused  by  the 
commotion,  got  up  to  see  what  it  was  all 
about,  and  came  in  and  watched  while  I 
ate  the  meal  those  good  Dutch  people  pre- 
pared for  me.  Ordinarily,  I  suppose,  I 

'7  255 


OUTWITTING  THE   HUN 

would  have  been  embarrassed  with  so 
many  people  staring  at  me  while  I  ate,  as 
though  I  were  some  strange  animal  that 
had  just  been  captured,  but  just  then  I 
was  too  famished  to  notice  or  care  very 
much  what  other  people  did. 

There  will  always  be  a  warm  place  in  my 
heart  for  the  Dutch  people.  I  had  heard 
lots  of  persons  say  that  they  were  not  in- 
clined to  help  refugees,  but  my  experience 
did  not  bear  these  reports  out.  They  cer- 
tainly did  much  more  for  me  than  I  ever 
expected. 

I  had  a  little  German  money  left,  but  as 
the  value  of  German  money  is  only  about 
half  in  Holland,  I  didn't  have  enough  to 
pay  the  fare  to  Rotterdam,  which  was  my 
next  objective.  It  was  due  to  the  gener- 
osity of  these  people  that  I  was  able  to 
reach  the  British  consul  as  quickly  as  I  did. 
Some  day  I  hope  to  return  to  Holland  and 
repay  every  single  soul  who  played  the 
part  of  Good  Samaritan  to  me. 

With  the  money  that  these  people  gave 
me  I  was  able  to  get  a  third-class  ticket  to 
Rotterdam,  and  I  am  glad  that  I  didn't 
have  enough  to  travel  first-class,  for  I 
would  have  looked  as  much  out  of  place  in 
256 


EXPERIENCES   IN   HOLLAND 

a  first-class  carriage  as  a  Hun  would  ap- 
pear in  heaven. 

That  night  I  slept  in  the  house  of  my 
Dutch  friends,  where  they  fixed  me  up 
most  comfortably.  In  the  morning  they 
gave  me  breakfast  and  then  escorted  me 
to  the  station. 

While  I  was  waiting  in  the  station  a 
crowd  gathered  round  me,  and  soon  it 
seemed  as  if  the  whole  town  had  turned 
out  to  get  a  look  at  me.  It  was  very  em- 
barrassing, particularly  as  I  could  give 
them  no  information  regarding  the  cause 
of  my  condition,  although,  of  course,  they 
all  knew  that  I  was  a  refugee  from 
Belgium. 

As  the  train  pulled  out  of  the  station  the 
crowd  gave  a  loud  cheer,  and  the  tears  al- 
most came  to  my  eyes  as  I  contrasted  in 
my  mind  the  conduct  of  this  crowd  and  the 
one  that  had  gathered  at  the  station  in 
Ghent  when  I  had  departed  a  prisoner 
en  route  for  the  reprisal  camp.  I 
breathed  a  sigh  of  relief  as  I  thought  of 
that  reprisal  camp  and  how  fortunate  I 
had  really  been,  despite  all  my  suffering, 
to  have  escaped  it.  Now,  at  any  rate,  I 
was  a  free  man  and  I  would  soon  be  send- 
257 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

ing  home  the  joyful  news  that  I  had  made 
good  my  escape. 

At  Einhoffen  two  Dutch  officers  got  into 
the  compartment  with  me.  They  looked 
at  me  with  very  much  disfavor,  not  know- 
ing, of  course,  that  I  was  a  British  officer. 
My  clothes  were  still  pretty  much  in  the 
condition  they  were  when  I  crossed  the 
border,  although  I  had  been  able  to  scrape 
off  some  of  the  mud  I  had  collected  the 
night  before.  I  had  not  shaved  nor 
trimmed  my  beard  for  many  days,  and  I 
must  have  presented  a  sorry  appearance. 
I  could  hardly  blame  them  for  edging  away 
from  me. 

The  trip  from  Einhoffen  to  Rotterdam 
passed  without  special  incident.  At  vari- 
ous stations  passengers  would  get  into  the 
compartment  and,  observing  my  unusual 
appearance,  would  endeavor  to  start  a  con- 
versation with  me.  None  of  them  spoke 
English,  however,  and  they  had  to  use  their 
own  imagination  as  to  my  identity. 

When  I  arrived  at  Rotterdam  I  asked  a 
policeman  who  stood  in  front  of  the  sta- 
tion where  I  could  find  the  British  consul, 
but  I  could  not  make  him  understand.  I 
next  applied  to  a  taxicab  driver. 
258 


EXPERIENCES    IN   HOLLAND 

"English  consul — British  consul — Amer- 
ican consul — French  consul,"  I  said,  hop- 
ing that  if  he  didn't  understand  one  he 
might  recognize  another. 

He  eyed  me  with  suspicion  and  mo- 
tioned me  to  get  in  and  drove  off.  I  had 
no  idea  where  he  was  taking  me,  but  after  a 
quarter  of  an  hour's  ride  he  brought  up  in 
front  of  the  British  consulate.  Never  be- 
fore was  I  so  glad  to  see  the  Union  Jack! 

I  beckoned  to  the  chauffeur  to  go  with 
me  up  to  the  office,  as  I  had  no  money 
with  which  to  pay  him,  and  when  we  got 
to  the  consulate  I  told  them  that  if  they 
would  pay  the  taxi  fare  I  would  tell  them 
who  I  was  and  how  I  happened  to  be  there. 

They  knew  at  once  that  I  was  an  escaped 
prisoner  and  they  readily  paid  the  chauf- 
feur and  invited  me  to  give  some  account 
of  myself. 

They  treated  me  most  cordially  and  were 
intensely  interested  in  the  brief  account  I 
gave  them  of  my  adventures.  Word  was 
sent  to  the  consul-general,  and  he  imme- 
diately sent  for  me.  When  I  went  in  he 
shook  hands  with  me,  greeting  me  very 
heartily  and  offering  me  a  chair. 

He  then  sat  down,  screwed  a  monocle  on 
259 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

his  eye,  and  viewed  me  from  top  to  toe.  I 
could  see  that  only  good  breeding  kept 
him  from  laughing  at  the  spectacle  I  pre- 
sented. I  could  see  he  wanted  to  laugh 
in  the  worst  way. 

"Go  ahead  and  laugh!"  I  said.  "You 
can't  offend  me  the  way  I  feel  this  blessed 
day!"  And  he  needed  no  second  invita- 
tion. Incidentally,  it  gave  me  a  chance  to 
laugh  at  him,  for  I  was  about  as  much 
amused  as  he  was. 

After  he  had  laughed  himself  about  sick 
he  got  up  and  slapped  me  on  the  back  and 
invited  me  to  tell  him  my  story. 

"Lieutenant,"  he  said,  when  I  had  con- 
cluded, "you  can  have  anything  you 
want.  I  think  your  experiences  entitle 
you  to  it." 

"Well,  Consul,"  I  replied,  "I  would  like 
a  bath,  a  shave,  a  hair-cut,  and  some 
civilized  clothes  about  as  badly  as  a  man 
ever  needed  them,  I  suppose,  but  before 
that  I  would  like  to  get  a  cable  off  to 
America  to  my  mother,  telling  her  that  I 
am  safe  and  on  my  way  to  England." 

The  consul  gave  the  necessary  instruc- 
tions, and  I  had  the  satisfaction  of  know- 
ing before  I  left  the  office  that  the  cable, 
260 


EXPERIENCES    IN    HOLLAND 

with  its  good  tidings,  was  on  its  way  to 
America. 

Then  he  sent  for  one  of  the  naval  men 
who  had  been  interned  there  since  the  be- 
ginning of  the  war  and  who  was  able  to 
speak  Dutch,  and  told  him  to  take  good 
care  of  me. 

After  I  had  been  bathed  and  shaved  and 
had  a  hair-cut,  I  bought  some  new  clothes 
and  had  something  to  eat,  and  I  felt  like 
a  new  man. 

As  I  walked  through  the  streets  of  Rot- 
terdam, breathing  the  air  of  freedom  again 
and  realizing  that  there  was  no  longer 
any  danger  of  being  captured  and  taken 
back  to  prison,  it  was  a  wonderful  sen- 
sation. 

I  don't  believe  there  will  ever  be  a 
country  that  will  appear  in  my  eyes  quite 
as  good  as  Holland  did  then.  I  had  to 
be  somewhat  careful,  however,  because 
Holland  was  full  of  German  spies,  and  I 
knew  they  would  be  keen  to  learn  all  they 
possibly  could  about  my  escape  and  my 
adventures,  so  that  the  authorities  in  Bel- 
gium could  mete  out  punishment  to  every 
one  who  was  in  any  respect  to  blame  for 
it.  As  I  was  in  Rotterdam  only  a  day, 
261 


OUTWITTING  THE   HUN 

they  didn't  have  very  much  opportunity 
to  learn  anything  from  me. 

The  naval  officer  who  accompanied  me 
and  acted  as  interpreter  for  me  intro- 
duced me  to  many  other  soldiers  and 
sailors  who  had  escaped  from  Belgium 
when  the  Germans  took  Antwerp,  and  as 
they  had  arrived  in  Holland  in  uniform 
and  under  arms  the  laws  of  neutrality 
compelled  their  internment,  and  they  had 
been  there  ever  since. 

The  life  of  a  man  who  is  interned  in  a 
neutral  country,  I  learned,  is  anything 
but  satisfactory.  He  gets  one  month  a 
year  to  visit  his  home.  If  he  lives  in 
England,  that  is  not  so  bad,  but  if  he 
happens  to  live  farther  away,  the  time 
he  has  to  spend  with  his  folks  is  very 
short,  as  the  month's  leave  does  not  take 
into  consideration  the  time  consumed  in 
traveling  to  and  from  Holland. 

The  possibility  of  escape  from  intern- 
ment is  always  there,  but  the  British  au- 
thorities have  an  agreement  with  the  Dutch 
government  to  send  refugees  back  im- 
mediately. In  this  respect,  therefore,  the 
position  of  a  man  who  is  interned  is  worse 
than  that  of  a  prisoner  who,  if  he  does 
262 


EXPERIENCES    IN   HOLLAND 

succeed  in  making  his  escape,  is  naturally 
received  with  open  arms  in  his  native 
land.  Apart  from  this  restraint,  however, 
internment,  with  all  its  drawbacks,  is  a 
thousand  times — yes,  a  million  times  bet- 
ter than  being  a  prisoner  of  war  in  Ger- 
many. 

It  seems  to  me  that  when  the  war  is 
over  and  the  men  who  have  been  im- 
prisoned in  Germany  return  home  they 
should  be  given  a  bigger  and  greater  re- 
ception than  the  most  victorious  army 
that  ever  marched  into  a  city,  for  they 
will  have  suffered  and  gone  through  more 
than  the  world  will  ever  be  able  to  under- 
stand. 

No  doubt  you  will  find  in  the  German 
prison-camps  one  or  two  faint-hearted  in- 
dividuals with  a  pronounced  yellow  streak 
who  voluntarily  gave  up  the  struggle  and 
gave  up  their  liberty  rather  than  risk 
their  lives  or  limbs.  These  sad  cases, 
however,  are,  I  am  sure,  extremely  few. 
Nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  out  of  a 
thousand  of  the  men  fighting  in  the  Allied 
lines  would  rather  be  in  the  front-line 
trenches,  fighting  every  day,  with  all  the 

horrors  and  all  the  risks,  than  be  a  pris- 
263 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

oner  of  war  in  Germany,  for  the  men  in 
France  have  a  very  keen  realization  of 
what  that  means. 

But  to  return  to  my  day  in  Rotterdam. 

After  I  was  fixed  up  I  returned  to  the 
consulate  and  arrangements  were  made  for 
my  transportation  to  England  at  once. 
Fortunately  there  was  a  boat  leaving  that 
very  night,  and  I  was  allowed  to  take 
passage  on  it. 

Just  as  we  were  leaving  Rotterdam  the 
boat  I  was  on  rammed  our  own  convoy, 
one  of  the  destroyers,  and  injured  it  so 
badly  that  it  had  to  put  back  to  port. 
It  would  have  been  a  strange  climax  to 
my  adventure  if  the  disaster  had  resulted 
in  the  sinking  of  my  boat  and  I  had  lost 
my  life  while  on  my  way  to  England 
after  having  successfully  outwitted  the 
Huns.  But  my  luck  was  with  me  to 
the  last,  and  while  the  accident  resulted 
in  some  delay,  our  boat  was  not  seriously 
damaged  and  made  the  trip  over  in 
schedule  time  and  without  further  in- 
cident, another  destroyer  having  been 
assigned  to  escort  us  through  the  danger 
zone  in  place  of  the  one  which  we  had 
put  out  of  commission. 
264 


EXPERIENCES    IN    HOLLAND 

When  I  arrived  in  London  the  reaction 
from  the  strain  I  had  been  under  for 
nearly  three  months  immediately  became 
apparent.  My  nerves  were  in  such  a  state 
that  it  was  absolutely  impossible  for  me 
to  cross  the  street  without  being  in  deadly 
fear  of  being  run  over  or  trampled  on.  I 
stood  at  the  curb,  like  an  old  woman  from 
the  country  on  her  first  visit  to  the  city, 
and  I  would  not  venture  across  until  some 
knowing  policeman,  recognizing  my  con- 
dition, came  to  my  assistance  and  con- 
voyed me  across. 

Indeed,  there  are  a  great  number  of 
English  officers  at  home  at  all  times  "get- 
ing  back  their  nerve"  after  a  long  spell 
of  active  service  at  the  front,  so  that  my 
condition  was  anything  but  novel  to  the 
London  bobbies. 

It  was  not  many  days,  however,  before 
I  regained  control  of  myself  and  felt  in 
first-class  shape. 

Although  the  British  authorities  in  Hol- 
land had  wired  my  mother  from  Holland 
that  I  was  safe  and  on  my  way  to  England, 
the  first  thing  I  did  when  we  landed  was 
to  send  her  a  cable  myself. 

The  cable  read  as  follows: 
265 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

Mrs.  M.  J.  O'Brien,  Momence,  III.,  U.  5.  A.: 
Just  escaped  from  Germany.    Letter  follows. 

PAT. 

As  I  delivered  it  to  the  cable-despatcher 
I  could  just  imagine  the  exultation  with 
which  my  mother  would  receive  it  and 
the  pride  she  would  feel  as  she  exhibited 
it  among  her  neighbors  and  friends. 

I  could  hear  the  volley  of  "I  told  you 
so's"  that  greeted  her  good  tidings. 

"It  would  take  more  than  the  Kaiser 
to  keep  Pat  in  Germany!"  I  could  hear 
one  of  them  saying. 

"Knew  he'd  be  back  for  Christmas, 
anyway/'  I  could  hear  another  remark. 

"I  had  an  idea  that  Pat  and  his  com- 
rades might  spend  Christmas  in  Berlin," 
I  could  hear  another  admitting,  "but  I 
didn't  think  any  other  part  of  Germany 
would  appeal  to  him  very  much." 

"Mrs.  O'Brien,  did  Pat  write  you  how 
many  German  prisoners  he  brought  back 
with  him?"  I  could  hear  still  another 
credulous  friend  inquiring. 

It  was  all  very  amusing  and  gratifying 
to  me,  and  I  must  confess  I  felt  quite 
cocky  as  I  walked  into  the  War  Depart- 
ment to  report. 

266 


EXPERIENCES    IN   HOLLAND 

For  the  next  five  days  I  was  kept  very 
busy  answering  questions  put  to  me  by 
the  military  authorities  regarding  what  I 
had  observed  as  to  conditions  in  Germany 
and  behind  the  lines. 

What  I  reported  was  taken  down  by  a 
stenographer  and  made  part  of  the  official 
records,  but  I  did  not  give  them  my  story 
in  narrative  form.  The  information  I 
was  able  to  give  was  naturally  of  interest 
to  various  branches  of  the  service,  and 
experts  in  every  line  of  government  work 
took  it  in  turns  to  question  me.  One 
morning  would  be  devoted,  for  instance, 
to  answering  questions  of  a  military  nat- 
ure— German  methods  behind  the  front- 
line trenches,  tactics,  morale  of  troops, 
and  similar  matters.  Then  the  aviation 
experts  would  take  a  whack  at  me  and 
discuss  with  me  all  I  had  observed  of 
German  flying-corps  methods  and  equip- 
ment. Then,  again,  the  food  experts 
would  interrogate  me  as  to  what  I  had 
learned  of  food  conditions  in  Germany, 
Luxembourg,  and  Belgium,  and  as  I  had 
lived  pretty  close  to  the  ground  for  the 
best  part  of  seventy-two  days  I  was  able 
to  give  them  some  fairly  accurate  reports 
267 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

as  to  actual  agricultural  conditions,  many 
of  the  things  I  told  them  probably  having 
more  significance  to  them  than  they  had 
to  me. 

There  were  many  things  I  had  observed 
which  I  have  not  referred  to  in  these  pages 
because  their  value  to  us  might  be  di- 
minished if  the  Germans  knew  we  were 
aware  of  them,  but  they  were  all  reported 
to  the  authorities,  and  it  was  very  grati- 
fying to  me  to  hear  that  the  experts  con- 
sidered some  of  them  of  the  greatest  value. 

One  of  the  most  amusing  incidents  of 
my  return  occurred  when  I  called  at  my 
banker's  in  London  to  get  my  personal 
effects. 

The  practice  in  the  Royal  Flying  Corps 
when  a  pilot  is  reported  missing  is  to  have 
two  of  his  comrades  assigned  to  go  through 
his  belongings,  check  them  over,  destroy 
anything  that  it  might  not  be  to  his  in- 
terest to  preserve,  and  send  the  whole 
business  to  his  banker  or  his  home,  as  the 
case  may  be.  Every  letter  is  read  through, 
but  its  contents  is  never  afterward  dis- 
cussed nor  revealed  in  any  way.  If  the 
pilot  is  finally  reported  dead,  his  effects  are 
forwarded  to  his  next  of  kin,  but  while  he  is 
268 


EXPERIENCES    IN   HOLLAND 

officially  only  "missing"  or  is  known  to  be 
a  prisoner  of  war  they  are  kept  either  at 
the  squadron  headquarters  or  sent  to  his 
banker's. 

In  my  case,  as  soon  as  it  was  learned 
that  I  had  fallen  from  the  sky  it  was  as- 
sumed that  I  had  been  killed,  and  my 
chum,  Paul  Raney,  and  another  officer 
were  detailed  to  check  over  my  effects. 
The  list  they  made  and  to  which  they  af- 
fixed their  signatures,  as  I  have  previously 
mentioned,  is  now  in  my  possession  and  is 
one  of  the  most  treasured  souvenirs  of  my 
adventure. 

My  trunk  was  sent  to  Cox  &  Co.  in  due 
course,  and  now  that  I  was  in  London  I 
thought  I  would  go  and  claim  it. 

When  I  arrived  in  the  bank  I  applied 
at  the  proper  window  for  my  mail  and 
trunk. 

"Who  are  you?"  I  was  asked,  rather 
sharply. 

"Well,  I  guess  no  one  has  any  greater 
right  to  Pat  O'Brien's  effects  than  I  have," 
I  replied,  "and  I  would  be  obliged  to  you 
if  you  would  look  them  up  for  me." 

"That  may  be  all  right,  my  friend,"  re- 
plied the  clerk,  "but  according  to  our 
269 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

records  Lieutenant  O'Brien  is  a  prisoner  of 
war  in  Germany,  and  we  can't  very  well 
turn  over  his  effects  to  any  one  else  unless 
either  you  present  proof  that  he  is  dead 
and  that  you  are  his  lawful  representative, 
or  else  deliver  to  us  a  properly  authenti- 
cated order  from  him  to  give  them  to  you." 

He  was  very  positive  about  it  all,  but 
quite  polite,  and  I  thought  I  would  kid 
him  no  more. 

"Well,"  I  said,  "I  can't  very  well  pre- 
sent proofs  to  you  that  Pat  O'Brien  is 
dead,  but  I  will  do  the  best  I  can  to  prove 
to  you  that  he  is  alive,  and  if  you  haven't 
quite  forgotten  his  signature  I  guess  I  can 
write  you  out  an  order  that  will  answer 
all  your  requirements  and  enable  you  to 
give  me  Pat  O'Brien's  belongings  without 
running  any  risks."  And  I  scribbled  my 
signature  on  a  scrap  of  paper  and  handed 
it  to  him. 

He  looked  at  me  carefully  through  the 
latticed  window,  then  jumped  down  from 
his  chair  and  came  outside  to  clasp  me  by 
the  hand. 

"Good  Heavens,  Lieutenant!"  he  ex- 
claimed as  he  pumped  my  hand  up  and 
down.  "How  did  you  ever  get  away?" 
270 


, 

POST    OFFICE      !<^ijd|      TELEGRAPHS. 


0*«  (rf  Onj.c  »nd  Set™  ]™tiior.i        I  •       Word.     •     Ch»r 5**  to 

Omv~-4     :=  r.  ? 

BUCKINGHAM  PALACE       ** 


TO 


iYT'UtT  ESOC1 


(^    a^L^^     P<JUx^C     Md  *U*. 


COPY    OF    TELEGRAM    INVITING    LIEUTENANT    O  BRIEN    TO    MEET    KING 

GEORGE 


6 


For  Postasre  Stamps. 


»._<?  \. 

•  <**    •*  - 


affin* 
ijfujfjgt 


COPY    OF    TELEGRAM    SENT    BY    LIEUTENANT    O'BRIEN    IN    ANSWER    TO 
AN    INVITATION   TO   MEET    KING    GEORGE 


EXPERIENCES    IN   HOLLAND 

And  I  had  to  sit  right  down  and  tell  him 
and  half  a  dozen  other  people  in  the  bank 
all  about  my  experiences. 

I  had  been  in  England  about  ten  days 
when  I  received  a  telegram  which,  at  first, 
occasioned  me  almost  as  much  concern  as 
the  unexpected  sight  of  a  German  spiked 
helmet  had  caused  me  in  Belgium.  It  read 
as  follows: 

Lieut.  P.  A.  O'Brien,  Royal  Flying  Corps,  Regent's 

Palace  Hotel,  London: 

The  King  is  very  glad  to  hear  of  your  escape 
from  Germany.  If  you  are  to  be  in  London  on 
Friday  next,  December  7th,  His  Majesty  will  re- 
ceive you  at  Buckingham  Palace  at  10:30  A.M. 
Please  acknowledge.  CROMER. 

Of  course,  there  was  only  one  thing  to 
do  and  that  was  to  obey  orders.  I  was  an 
officer  in  the  army  and  the  King  was  my 
commander-in-chief.  I  had  to  go,  and  so 
I  sat  down  and  sent  off  the  following 
answer: 

Earl  Grower,  Buckingham  Palace,  London: 

I  will  attend  Buckingham  Palace  as  directed, 
Friday,  December  7th,  at  10:30. 

LIEUTENANT  PAT  O'BRIEN. 
18  271 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

In  the  interval  that  elapsed  I  must  con- 
fess, the  ordeal  of  calling  on  the  King  of 
England  loomed  up  more  dreadfully  every 
day,  and  I  really  believe  I  would  rather 
have  spent  another  day  in  that  empty 
house  in  the  big  city  in  Belgium,  or,  say, 
two  days  at  Courtrai,  than  go  through 
what  I  believed  to  be  in  store  for  me. 

Orders  were  orders,  however,  and  there 
was  no  way  of  getting  out  of  it.  As  it 
turned  out  it  wasn't  half  so  bad  as  I  had 
feared;  on  the  contrary,  it  was  one  of  the 
most  agreeable  experiences  of  my  life. 


XIX 

I  AM  PRESENTED  TO  THE   KING 

WHEN  the  dreaded  7th  of  December 
arrived  I  hailed  a  taxicab  and  in 
as  matter-of-fact  tone  of  voice  as  I  could 
command  directed  the  chauffeur  to  drive 
me  to  Buckingham  Palace,  as  though  I 
were  paying  my  regular  morning  call  on 
the  King. 

My  friends'  version  of  this  incident,  I 
have  since  heard,  is  that  I  seated  myself 
in  the  taxi  and,  leaning  through  the  win- 
dow, said,  "Buckingham  Palace!"  where- 
upon the  taxi  driver  got  down,  opened 
the  door,  and  exclaimed,  threateningly: 

"If  you  don't  get  out  quietly  and  chuck 
your  drunken  talk,  I'll  jolly  quick  call  a 
bobby,  bli'  me  if  I  won't!" 

But  I  can  only  give  my  word  that  noth- 
ing of  the  kind  occurred. 

When  I  arrived  at  the  palace  gate  the 
273 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

sentry  on  guard  asked  me  who  I  was,  and 
then  let  me  pass  at  once  up  to  the  front 
entrance  of  the  palace. 

There  I  was  met  by  an  elaborately  uni- 
formed and  equally  elaborately  decorated 
personage,  who,  judging  by  the  long  row 
of  medals  he  wore,  must  have  seen  long 
and  distinguished  service  for  the  King. 

I  was  relieved  of  my  overcoat,  hat,  and 
stick  and  conducted  up  a  long  stairway, 
where  I  was  turned  over  to  another  func- 
tionary, who  led  me  to  the  reception-room 
of  Earl  Cromer,  the  King's  secretary. 

There  I  was  introduced  to  another  earl 
and  a  duke  whose  names  I  do  not  remem- 
ber. I  was  becoming  so  bewildered,  in 
fact,  that  it  is  a  wonder  that  I  remember 
as  much  as  I  do  of  this  eventful  day. 

I  had  heard  many  times  that  before  be- 
ing presented  to  the  King  a  man  is  coached 
carefully  as  to  just  how  he  is  to  act  and 
what  he  is  to  say  and  do,  and  all  this  time 
I  was  wondering  when  this  drilling  would 
commence.  I  certainly  had  no  idea  that 
I  was  to  be  ushered  into  the  august  pres- 
ence of  the  King  without  some  preliminary 
instruction. 

Earl    Cromer  and  the  other  noblemen 
274 


I  AM  PRESENTED  TO  THE   KING 

talked  to  me  for  a  while  and  got  me  to 
relate  in  brief  the  story  of  my  experiences, 
and  they  appeared  to  be  very  much  inter- 
ested. Perhaps  they  did  it  only  to  give 
me  confidence  and  as  a  sort  of  rehearsal 
for  the  main  performance^  which  was 
scheduled  to  take  place  much  sooner  than 
I  expected. 

I  had  barely  completed  my  story  when 
the  door  opened  and  an  attendant  entered 
and  announced: 

"The  King  will  receive  Lef tenant 
O'Brien!" 

If  he  had  announced  that  the  Kaiser 
was  outside  with  a  squad  of  German  guards 
to  take  me  back  to  Courtrai  my  heart 
could  not  have  sunk  deeper. 

Earl  Cromer  beckoned  me  to  follow  him, 
and  we  went  into  a  large  room,  where  I 
supposed  I  was  at  last  to  receive  my 
coaching,  but  I  observed  the  earl  bow  to 
a  man  standing  there  and  realized  that  I 
was  standing  in  the  presence  of  the  King 
of  England. 

"Your   Majesty,    Leftenant   O'Brien!" 
the  earl   announced,  and   then    immedi- 
ately backed  from  the  room.    I  believed 
I  would  have  followed  right  behind  him, 
275 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

but  by  that  time  the  King  had  me  by  the 
hand  and  was  congratulating  me,  and  he 
spoke  so  very  cordially  and  democratically 
that  he  put  me  at  my  ease  at  once. 

He  then  asked  me  how  I  felt  and 
whether  I  was  in  a  condition  to  converse, 
and  when  I  told  him  I  was  he  said  he  would 
be  very  much  pleased  to  hear  my  story  in 
detail. 

"Were  you  treated  any  worse  by  the 
Germans,  Leftenant,"  he  asked,  "on  ac- 
count of  being  an  American?  I've  heard 
that  the  Germans  had  threatened  to  shoot 
Americans  serving  in  the  British  army  if 
they  captured  them,  classing  them  as  mur- 
derers because  America  was  a  neutral  coun- 
try and  Americans  had  no  right  to  mix  in 
the  war.  Did  you  find  that  to  be  the  case?" 

I  told  him  that  I  had  heard  similar  re- 
ports, but  that  I  did  not  notice  any  ap- 
preciable difference  in  my  treatment  from 
that  accorded  Britishers. 

The  King  declared  that  he  believed  my 
escape  was  due  to  my  pluck  and  will 
power,  and  that  it  was  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  escapes  he  had  ever  heard  of, 
which  I  thought  was  quite  a  compliment, 
coming  as  it  did  from  the  King  of  England. 
276 


I  AM   PRESENTED  TO  THE   KING 

"I  hope  that  all  the  Americans  will  give 
as  good  an  account  of  themselves  as  you 
have,  Lef tenant,"  he  said,  "and  I  feel 
quite  sure  they  will.  I  fully  appreciate 
all  the  service  rendered  us  by  Americans 
before  the  States  entered  the  war." 

At  this  point  I  asked  him  if  I  was  tak- 
ing too  much  time. 

"Not  at  all,  Lef  tenant,  not  at  all!"  he 
replied,  most  cordially.  "I  was  extremely 
interested  in  the  brief  report  that  came  to 
me  of  your  wonderful  escape,  and  I  sent 
for  you  because  I  wanted  to  hear  the 
whole  story  first-hand,  and  I  am  very 
glad  you  were  able  to  come." 

I  had  not  expected  to  remain  more 
than  a  few  minutes,  as  I  understood  that 
four  minutes  is  considered  a  long  audience 
with  the  King.  Fifty-two  minutes  elapsed 
before  I  finally  left  there! 

During  all  this  time  I  had  done  most 
of  the  talking,  in  response  to  the  King's 
request  to  tell  my  story.  Occasionally 
he  interrupted  to  ask  a  question  about  a 
point  he  wanted  me  to  make  clear,  but  for 
the  most  part  he  was  content  to  play  the 
part  of  listener. 

He  seemed  to  be  very  keen  on  every- 
277 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

thing,  and  when  I  described  some  of  the 
tight  holes  I  got  into  during  my  escape 
he  evinced  his  sympathy.  Occasionally  I 
introduced  some  of  the  few  humorous  in- 
cidents of  my  adventure,  and  in  every 
instance  he  laughed  heartily. 

Altogether  the  impression  I  got  of  him 
was  that  he  is  a  very  genial,  gracious,  and 
alert  sovereign.  I  know  I  have  felt  more 
ill  at  ease  when  talking  to  a  major  than 
when  speaking  to  the  King — but  perhaps 
I  had  more  cause  to. 

During  the  whole  interview  we  were 
left  entirely  alone,  which  impressed  me  as 
significant  of  the  democratic  manner  of 
the  present  King  of  England,  and  I  cer- 
tainly came  away  with  the  utmost  re- 
spect for  him. 

In  all  of  my  conversation,  I  recalled 
afterward,  I  never  addressed  the  King  as 
"Your  Majesty,"  but  used  the  military 
"sir."  As  I  was  a  British  officer  and  he 
was  the  head  of  the  army,  he  probably 
appreciated  this  manner  of  address  more 
than  if  I  had  used  the  usual  "Your  Maj- 
esty." Perhaps  he  attributed  it  to  the 
fact  that  I  was  an  American.  At  any  rate, 
he  didn't  evince  any  displeasure  at  my 
278 


I  AM  PRESENTED  TO  THE   KING 

departure  from  what  I  understand  is  the 
usual  form  of  address. 

Before  I  left  he  asked  me  what  my  plans 
for  the  future  were. 

"Why,  sir,  I  hope  to  rejoin  my  squad- 
ron at  the  earliest  possible  moment!"  I 
replied. 

"No,  Lef tenant,"  he  rejoined,  "that  is 
out  of  the  question.  We  can't  risk  losing 
you  for  good  by  sending  you  back  to  a 
part  of  the  front  opposed  by  Germany, 
because  if  you  were  unfortunate  enough 
to  be  captured  again  they  would  undoubt- 
edly shoot  you." 

"Well,  if  I  can't  serve  in  France,  sir," 
I  suggested,  "wouldn't  it  be  feasible  for 
me  to  fly  in  Italy  or  Salonica?" 

"No,"  he  replied ;  "that  would  be  almost 
as  bad.  The  only  thing  that  I  can  suggest 
for  you  to  do  is  either  to  take  up  instruc- 
tion— a  very  valuable  form  of  service — 
or  perhaps  it  might  be  safe  enough  for 
you  to  serve  in  Egypt;  but,  just  at  present, 
Leftenant,  I  think  you  have  done  enough, 
anyway." 

Then  he  rose  and  shook  hands  with  me 
and  wished  me  the  best  of  luck,  and  we 
both  said,  "Good-by." 
279 


OUTWITTING   THE   HUN 

In  the  adjoining  room  I  met  Earl  Cromer 
again,  and  as  he  accompanied  me  to  the 
door  he  seemed  to  be  surprised  at  the 
length  of  my  visit. 

"His  Majesty  must  have  been  very 
much  interested  in  your  story,"  he  said. 

As  I  left  the  palace  a  policeman  and  a 
sentry  outside  came  smartly  to  attention. 
Perhaps  they  figured  I  had  been  made  a 
general. 

As  I  was  riding  back  to  the  hotel  in  a 
taxi  I  reflected  on  the  remarkable  course 
of  events  which  in  the  short  space  of  nine 
months  had  taken  me  through  so  much 
and  ended  up,  like  the  finish  of  a  book, 
with  my  being  received  by  his  Majesty  the 
King!  When  I  first  joined  the  Royal 
Flying  Corps  I  never  expected  to  see  the 
inside  of  Buckingham  Palace,  much  less 
to  be  received  by  the  King. 


XX 

HOME  AGAIN! 

r"PHAT  same  day,  in  the  evening,  I  was 
1  tendered  a  banquet  at  the  Hotel  Savoy 
by  a  fellow-officer  who  had  bet  three  other 
friends  of  mine  that  I  would  be  home  by 
Christmas.  This  wager  had  been  made  at 
the  time  he  heard  that  I  was  a  prisoner  of 
war,  and  the  dinner  was  the  stake. 

The  first  intimation  he  had  of  my  safe 
return  from  Germany  and  the  fact  that 
he  had  won  his  bet  was  a  telegram  I  sent 
him  reading  as  follows: 


Lieutenant  Louis  Grant: 
War-bread  bad,  so  I  came  home. 


PAT. 


He  said  he  would  not  part  with  that  mes- 
sage for  a  thousand  dollars. 

Other  banquets  followed  in  fast  succes- 
sion. After  I  had  survived  nine  of  them  I 
281 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

figured  that  I  was  now  in  as  much  danger 
of  succumbing  to  a  surfeit  of  rich  food  as 
I  had  previously  been  of  dying  from  star- 
vation, and  for  my  own  protection  I  de- 
cided to  leave  London.  Moreover,  my 
thoughts  and  my  heart  were  turning  back 
to  the  land  of  my  birth,  where  I  knew 
there  was  a  loving  old  mother  who  was 
longing  for  more  substantial  evidence  of 
my  safe  escape  than  the  cables  and  letters 
she  had  received. 

Strangely  enough,  on  the  boat  which 
carried  me  across  the  Atlantic  I  saw  an 
R.  F.  C.  man — Lieutenant  Lascelles. 

I  walked  over  to  him,  held  out  my  hand, 
and  said,  "Hello!" 

He  looked  at  me  steadily  for  at  least  a 
minute. 

"My  friend,  you  certainly  look  like  Pat 
O'Brien,"  he  declared,  "but  I  can't  believe 
my  eyes.  Who  are  you?" 

I  quickly  convinced  him  that  his  eyes 
were  still  to  be  relied  upon,  and  then  he 
stared  at  me  for  another  minute  or  two, 
shaking  his  head  dubiously. 

His  mystification  was  quite  explicable. 
The  last  time  he  had  seen  me  I  was  going 
down  to  earth  with  a  bullet  in  my  face  and 
282 


HOME   AGAIN! 

my  machine  doing  a  spinning  nose  dive. 
He  was  one  of  my  comrades  in  the  flying 
corps  and  was  in  the  fight  which  resulted 
in  my  capture.  He  said  he  had  read  the 
report  that  I  was  a  prisoner  of  war,  but  he 
had  never  believed  it,  as  he  did  not  think 
it  possible  for  me  to  survive  that  fall. 

He  was  one  of  the  few  men  living  out  of 
eighteen  who  were  originally  in  my  squad- 
ron— I  do  not  mean  the  eighteen  with 
whom  I  sailed  from  Canada  last  May,  but 
the  squadron  I  joined  in  France.  He  re- 
hearsed for  me  the  fate  of  all  my  old  friends 
in  the  squadron,  and  it  was  a  mighty 
sad  story.  All  of  them  had  been  killed 
except  one  or  two  who  were  in  dry-dock 
for  repairs.  He  himself  was  on  his  way  to 
Australia  to  recuperate  and  get  his  nerves 
back  into  shape  again.  He  had  been  in 
many  desperate  combats. 

As  we  sat  on  the  deck  exchanging  ex- 
periences I  would  frequently  notice  him 
gazing  intently  in  my  face  as  if  he  were 
not  quite  sure  that  the  whole  proposition 
was  not  a  hoax  and  that  I  was  not  an 
impostor. 

Outside  of  this  unexpected  meeting,  my 
trip  across  was  uneventful. 
283 


OUTWITTING   THE    HUN 

I  arrived  in  St.  John,  New  Brunswick, 
and  eventually  the  little  town  of  Momence, 
Illinois,  on  the  Kankakee  River. 

I  have  said  that  I  was  never  so  happy 
to  arrive  in  a  country  as  I  was  when  I  first 
set  foot  on  Dutch  soil.  Now  I'm  afraid 
I  shall  have  to  take  that  statement  back. 
Not  until  I  finally  landed  in  Momence 
and  realized  that  I  was  again  in  the  town 
of  my  childhood  days  did  I  enjoy  that 
feeling  of  absolute  security  which  one 
never  really  appreciates  until  after  a  visit 
to  foreign  parts. 

Now  that  I  am  back,  the  whole  advent- 
ure constantly  recurs  to  me  as  a  dream, 
and  I'm  never  quite  sure  that  I  won't  wake 
up  aad  find  it  so. 


THE   END 


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